Decisions
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: Decisions are made every single day. Some are harder than others, but all of them are easier with the love of your spouse keeping you steady along the way. Join me as we explore the decisions of Charles & Elsie Carson. Written for the tumblr DAS7 prompt.
1. Chapter 1

**Decisions**

**Written in response to ChelsieFan71's Tumblr response for Downton Abbey Series 7 scenes. Hope you'll enjoy and consider leaving a review, if you're so inclined!

 **C &E&C&E&C&E&C&E**

"Charlie, please stop fussing and come join me," she pleaded for the third time since supper.

"Almost done, love. I need to get the pot cleaned or else it will be harder to wash in the morning. I should be asking you to do this since it's your fault I was so distracted in the first place," he teased as he stood at the kitchen sink, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and soap suds covering his forearms.

"My fault? You're the one with the roaming hands," she called back from the sitting room, a hint of laughter in her voice. "I don't seem to recall you objecting to my joining you in the kitchen while you were cooking supper."

"And miss a chance to gaze at my beautiful wife, clad only in her new nightgown and robe, hair plaited already for the night, and all before six o'clock in the evening? I'd have been a fool to miss that opportunity."

Elsie rose from her seat on the couch and made her way to the doorway at the kitchen. "Well, you're certainly missing a golden opportunity now. I've asked you three times to join me and you're more worried about that old cooking pot. I should let you cuddle with it tonight instead of me," she said as she pretended to pout.

Charles tossed his dishtowel at her and laughed as she caught it easily before sending it straight back to him. "Fair enough, love. Now, would my bride like wine, brandy, or perhaps a hot rum toddy to round out her evening?"

Elsie locked eyes with Charles and slowly closed the distance between them. "I only want my husband to join me in the other room. I've missed you terribly this week, and I want nothing more than to curl up with you and simply share some time together. Please," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down for a soft, warm kiss.

His arms encircled her waist, and he pulled her flush against him as he deepened the kiss, silently telling her how very much he had missed her, too. When the kiss ended, he brushed his lips against the side of her throat in a ghostlike whisper. "Let me go upstairs and change into my pajamas. I won't be long," he said patting her hip then stepping out of her embrace and heading quickly for the stairs.

When Charles returned, Elsie was sitting in their living room, the lamps turned off and the only light in the room was coming from the fire heating the small area. There was still a slight nip in the air, though the position of the couch to the fireplace ensured that they were toasty enough on these chilly evenings.

He stood on the bottom step and took a moment to simply appreciate his life and the woman with whom he shared it. Because of her, he had more than he had ever dreamed possible. Years ago, he had told her he thought he would die at Downton Abbey and haunt its halls for eternity, for that was how his future seemed mapped. But, then she had slowly crept into his heart, sweeping away the cobwebs and showing him that he had an overabundance of love residing there if only he would share it with her.

He saw her now, sitting in _their_ living room, on _their_ couch, perfectly contended and happy. It made his heart skip a beat to know that he had been the one she had chosen to marry. She could have accepted Joe Burns … twice … but she had declined his offers of home and marriage. Yet, he bumbled his way through a proposal and she accepted immediately and with a twinkle in her eyes and a witty comment on her lips. He chuckled as he walked up behind her, the proposal evening still fresh in his memory. He leaned over her shoulder and nuzzled the side of her neck softly.

"Told you I'd be back," he whispered into her ear.

"So you did, Mr. Carson, though I thought you had gotten lost. Took quite some time to change into nightclothes." She whipped her head around so quickly that she almost bumped his head with hers. "Is your hand bothering you this evening? I could rub it for you or put some liniment on it."

He smiled sweetly at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "No, sweetheart. It's not bothering me. In fact, I haven't had a bad spell in a few days, but thank you for the offer." He sat down beside her and took her hand in his. "It's getting better, well, at least it's not flaring up as it was months ago. I suppose you and Dr. Clarkson were right. The more I stressed about it and worried, the more it trembled," he said bringing her hand to his lips.

"Charlie, that's wonderful. I know you worry about going down the path that your father and grandfather did, but from what you've said, they both lived long and productive lives after their careers were over. I've no doubts that you will thrive, too, and you have something that they didn't have."

He quirked an eyebrow at her as he tried to think of what she might mean.

"You, my love, have me! And, I'll not sit by and watch you worry yourself over it or give up, either. I'm sure your mother and grandmother did much the same for their men, too, but you're mine, and I will do whatever I can in my power to make you happy."

"You already do, Elsie, so very happy," he said, resting his head on her shoulder.

She rested her head on his for a moment then shifted. "You worked hard on our dinner tonight. Why don't you stretch out and put your head in my lap. Please?"

While they both knew he wasn't likely to fit completely, he did as she requested, letting his feet dangle over the edge of the couch towards the heat of the fire. With his head resting in her lap, he closed his eyes and gave himself over completely to her touch.

As her fingertips began to lightly rake through his silvery hair and across his forehead, they both could feel the entire world ebbing away, leaving only them and their little cottage in its wake. Occasionally, she would use the back of her hand to caress his cheeks or trace the outline of his lips with her fingertips. She would lightly massage his scalp or use her index finger to smooth over his impressive eyebrows. Other times, she would apply just the right amount of pressure to his temples to elicit a moan of approval. When her hand slipped into the opening at the top of his shirt to lightly scratch his chest, he hummed his appreciation, his body responding happily to her touch but warring with his mind for control. He wanted to indulge her, give her time to explore and touch, but there was something about her mood that unsettled him enough to break the silence with a question.

"What's troubling you tonight, Elsie? I'm not complaining about you doting on me, but I feel like something is amiss."

She moved her hand until it was over his heart and her free hand clasped his tightly. "I've been thinking seriously about something that will affect both of us, and I'm not sure how you'll feel about it."

His eyes opened and he looked up into her concerned face. "Why don't you tell me what it is, and we can discuss whatever's troubling you? Isn't that what you're always trying to get me to do … open up and share things with you?"

"Hmm, you do pay attention to me … sometimes!" she teased and they both shared a soft laugh. She leaned forward and kissed his lips though the angle was a bit awkward for both of them. "I don't want to go to church in the morning," she said very honestly, as if that made all the sense in the world.

His eyebrows raised and then his brow furrowed. "And why not? You always enjoy singing the hymns and chatting with some of the women from the village. Has one of them said something to offend you or has something else happened of which I'm not aware? Or are you not feeling well?"

The concern in his voice was evident and Elsie knew she had to work quickly to alleviate his fears. "No, nothing like that at all. I just … well, I just don't want to go," she answered, as if that explained everything in crystal clear detail.

Charles sat up and gathered her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. "I'm not following you, Elsie. Are you just simply tired? No one could blame you since you're having to do your job and probably Thomas's, too."

"Now, don't go down that road, please. He's doing the best he can. After all, he has some rather impressive shoes to fill and a legend to live up to at that house. He's no Charlie Carson, but he's learned from him and that's a head above most butlers in this country."

"You flatter me, but you're also avoiding my question," he said, giving her side a little tickle which earned him a little laugh. "Would you feel more comfortable telling me when we're upstairs? We could retire early for the night, cuddle up, and talk for as long as you want about anything on your mind."

She nodded and quickly wiped away the lone tear before it escaped too far down her cheek. She uncurled herself from his embrace and after watching him bank the fire, she took his hands in hers and led him up the stairs and into their bedroom. Once they were both settled in their bed, her head resting on his chest, his arms wrapped around her tightly, she let out a deep sigh and began to explain.

"I enjoy my work. I always have. It's provided Becky and me with a life outside of the workhouse. It's put food in my mouth, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, friends, and something of a family life once I left my own home. But, lately, I'm finding myself more and more distracted."

Charles smiled and was beginning to see where this was leading, or so he thought. His hands smoothed up and down her back, and he occasionally acknowledged that he was intently listening with a nod of his head or a hum of understanding. "And why are you so distracted, Mrs. Hughes?" He chose to use that title as a way of adding levity into their conversation as well as out of respect for her title at the house.

"You, my dear husband. You. Our cottage here. The other house. The flowers I want to plant in the Spring. The curtains I want to make for the windows. Everything. I go to work and take care of the Crawley's magnificent house, and all the while, I'm dreaming of my own home, my husband, and all the things I want to do and share with you," she said softly and with a gentle shrug of her shoulder.

He tilted her head back and kissed her softly on the lips. "I would like nothing more than for you to be by my side every day. I think of hundreds of little things to tell you when you're not here. Walking through the village without you by my side is certainly no walk in the park, either. You know how I dislike all that idle prattle the women try to engage me in," he said with a mild shudder as he thought of Mrs. Wigan. The last time Charles had gone to the post office, he had declared it to be his last. Elsie could buy her own stamps!

Elsie giggled softly, knowing exactly why her husband had shivered beneath her. "You need someone to protect you from the lecherous attentions of the postmistress?"

"That's not funny, Elsie Carson! You know what that woman's like. And you know I'd never …"

"Yes, darling. I know. You'd never … with her or anyone else. I've no fears or worries about that at all. You're my curmudgeon and I won't let any of those women forget it."

"So, getting back to this church business. You say you don't want to go but I'm sensing that it's a bigger issue than just church in the morning. Am I right?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering. "I don't even know if we can afford it, Charlie. With Becky's costs and the renovations on the Brouncker Road house, would we even have enough to buy food?"

Charles shifted his body until he was eye to eye with Elsie while still holding her in his embrace. "I've told you before, we have more than enough money. We wouldn't be able to travel the country for weeks or months on end, but the family would give you a retirement sum, plus the house is paid for. We can live here, make the renovations slowly on the other house until it's ready for us to open it, plant a garden and grow some of our own food, and we'd have more than enough for Becky's needs and our own."

"It all seems so simple, Charlie, but I've lived so close to the edge for so long, it's hard to believe otherwise. I trust you," she added quickly, "and I know you've made sound investments over the years, but … "

"In the morning, we'll sit down to a nice, hearty breakfast and afterwards, I'll show you all of the ledgers I have. We'll take them out to the garden and go over them one by one. I'll prove to you, Elsie that you don't have to work if you decide you're ready to retire."

"And what about missing church tomorrow? You didn't seem too keen on that."

"One Sunday or two won't hurt us, will it? Sounds like what you need is a day in your own home and doing the things that you want to do. So, that's exactly what we'll plan for tomorrow. And when you're ready … and only then … you can make the decision about retirement. But, don't think I won't do everything in my power to convince you that spending your days with me will be much more entertaining than in your office at Downton. After all, the butler of this house is very intimately aware of what makes you happy, and he's not afraid to prove it."

Elsie slipped her leg over his and curled herself deeper into his side. "Care to show me just how persuasive this butler can be?" She began deftly unfastening the buttons on his pajama shirt while moving against him.

"It would be my pleasure to pleasure you, Mrs. Carson," he said, rolling her onto her back and brushing his lips against her ear. "I'm your husband, and I love you. Trust me to take care of you, in all ways."

She moaned as his hands slipped beneath her gown and slipped it from her body as his lips and tongue left a heated trail across her chest. Her last coherent thought was how quickly she might turn in her notice so she could start being a proper wife to this amazing man she called husband.

 **TBC …maybe …**


	2. Chapter 2

**Decisions-Chapter 2**

 **A/N:** Thanks for your amazing support of the first chapter. I really appreciate the likes, comments, reviews, reblogs, and messages! You guys make writing fun, even if I am my worst critic. I love you, all!

 **C &E&C&E&C&E&C&E**

Mrs. Wigan watched as Elsie Carson entered the post office, this time without her husband in tow. The pair were often seen together in the village, something the other married women found a bit peculiar to say the least. To them, time away from their homes and responsibilities was a thing to be cherished and enjoyed. But for Elsie and Charles, it was quite the opposite.

If truths were told, Charles and Elsie relished spending as much time together as possible, especially since he was now retired and she still worked. Though her time at the house was coming to a close, or would in a few short weeks, the pair took every opportunity to spend her free time together, making up for lost years.

"What brings you in here today, Mrs. Carson, and without your husband in tow? Looking to get away for a bit?" the woman asked with a little glimmer of mischief in her eyes.

"Good day, Mrs. Wigan, and quite the opposite, in fact. Mr. Carson is picking up a few things we need for the cottage while I purchase some stamps and get our mail. Duties halved, as it were, so we can focus on more enjoyable activities today," Elsie replied cheekily. She knew the woman was still infatuated with her husband, and she found it amusing that it flustered Charles to the point where he would avoid the postmistress at all costs.

"Most women would enjoy a little bit of freedom from home and husband."

"Ah, but most women aren't married to Mr. Carson," Elsie quipped with a playful grin. "Now, if you'd be so kind, I need my stamps and mail so I can meet my husband."

Mrs. Wigan was unaccustomed to such quick and witty retorts so Elsie's reply took her by surprise. Without another word, she located the few pieces of mail, counted out the stamps Elsie had requested, then passed them over the counter.

"Good. The catalog from London arrived. Charlie will be so pleased," Elsie said, more to herself than to the nosy lady in front of her.

"Looks like they have quite a wide selection of garments," she said before realizing her mistake. "I mean, it looks that way from the cover, not that I would know, of course."

Elsie quirked an eyebrow, knowing full well that the woman had likely perused, at some length, the catalog she was now holding. "Yes, it does. Perhaps you should write to them and request one of your own. I'm sure Mr. Wigan could be persuaded to purchase you an article or two," Elsie said sweetly before turning on her heels and leaving a speechless postmistress in her wake.

While Elsie had gone to the post office, Charles had visited the local bakery and grocer for a few items they needed for supper and breakfast the next morning. Spotting Elsie standing just outside the shop, he quickened his steps and greeted her with a warm smile. "I trust that went well judging from the grin on your face."

She shook her head and accepted his offered arm as they started towards home. "It's a miracle anyone in this village has any secrets. I wonder if she takes as much notice of everyone else's post as she does ours!"

Charles shook his head and laughed. "Perhaps, I should write you a letter or two and send it to you from Ripon. That might make her tongue wag a little."

"Might also cause more than hers, too, if she decided to mention that to anyone else. Can you imagine the very notion, the very idea that I would even look twice at another man? She would have to be out of her mind to entertain that thought."

Charles quickly pressed a light kiss to her cheek. "I'm very pleased to hear it. I never doubted you for a moment, though I will admit that it's nice to hear from time to time." He winked and hugged her a little closer to his side. "Did we have much mail? I didn't think to ask."

"A letter from Becky's home, something for you from one of your London butler friends, and the catalog you requested. According to your friend, Mrs. Wigan, it has quite the variety of items for sale."

"Come along, Mrs. Carson. I'll help you with our supper, then we can sit down together and peruse this catalog of items we always wanted but never knew we needed," he joked, picking up the pace and heading for home.

After a leisurely dinner prepared and eaten together, Charles and Elsie curled up on their sofa with a glass of wine. While Charles read his letter then tried to finish the last chapter in the book he was currently reading, Elsie flipped through the catalog … a bit too loudly for her husband's liking.

"Oh, that's lovely, and not too expensive," she commented. "Hmm, those look very nice. That's an unusual color choice? Well, I never … "

Charles closed his book and set it aside with a loud sigh. "I'll finish the book tomorrow while you're at work," he announced before tickling his wife's sides until she was squirming away from him. He stopped and leaned over her on the sofa to kiss her soundly on the lips. When they pulled apart, he drew her back into his arms and dropped a light kiss just beneath her ear. "Show me what has you so astounded. We might need to order two of them if it can surprise you like that," he teased.

Elsie's cheeks reddened and warmed. "Let's look at the men's section instead. I've been meaning to make you some new pajamas but if we could buy them for a reasonable price, it might be worth it," she said, quickly turning to the men's section and away from the women's undergarments. The swift change did not go unnoticed by Charles.

"We should also look through the ladies' section, too," he reminded her gently. "I'm sure there are a few things you'd like to update in your wardrobe, and you never purchase anything for yourself. I'd like to buy you a few things, Elsie. We can afford it."

"I know, and I appreciate that. Since you showed me our books, I'm not as worried, though you'll not find me throwing our money away on silly things if I can make do with what I have."

Charles placed his finger beneath her chin and gently turned her head until he could see her face. "My wife shouldn't have to _make do_ , Elsie. My wife … you … should have nice, new things just as much, if not more so, than me. You've worked just as hard for this money. I'll not be buying anything unless you're getting something, too."

"Charlie, really. I have all I need, right here," she said, caressing his face with her fingertips. "I don't need to buy new things."

He kissed the tips of her fingers then took the catalog from her hands. "Then, neither do I."

She huffed and tried to reach around him to pick up the magazine. "I'm ordering new pajamas for you, Charlie. Besides, there's nothing in here that I can't buy locally. If I need a new blouse or nightgown, I can go into town and buy one from Mrs. Avery."

He hugged her tighter to him and guided her head to rest on his chest. His hands roamed her back as he spoke softly, his lips occasionally dropping kisses to the top of her head. "You're going to retire in a few weeks, right?" He felt her nod as she rested against him, relaxing in his embrace. "Then you will need some new dresses. You won't be obliged to wear the housekeeper dresses. And don't think I didn't see what you were looking at when I was trying to read," he whispered.

Elsie's head shot up and she looked at him with surprise. "You were supposed to be reading."

"I was, just not my book. I was reading the names of the different styles of underthings you were admiring, and I think it's time you made the decision to get rid of your corset and try something more comfortable."

"And what would you know about comfort and corsets, Mr. Carson?"

"I've seen the marks it leaves on your body, love, even if you're not wearing it tightly. I've heard the way you inhale and exhale deeply when it's loosened and you can remove it entirely. And I honestly think you'd be more comfortable. Just, promise me you'll think about it."

She pressed a light kiss to the underside of his jaw. "I'll think about it. Now, can we please talk about something else, or at least go upstairs to bed?"

"You made that sound a little risqué, Elsie."

"Good. That was my intention." She stood and offered him her hand, leading him upstairs to their bedroom where he lovingly helped her remove her clothing, corset and all.

The following morning, after Elsie went to work, Charles settled down on the sofa to finish his book. But, his eyes spied the catalog with a note resting on top.

 _Dear Charles,_

 _You were sleeping so peacefully after our rather long night that I didn't have the heart to wake you this morning. Thank you for reminding me how beautiful I am to you and for taking such good care of me. I am going to work with a rather satisfied smile on my face this morning. I hope you're smiling this morning, too._

 _I've taken the liberty of selecting a few things from the catalog that I'd like to order for you. New pajamas, some woolen socks for winter, two new shirts. I've marked the pages so you'll know which ones I mean. Please look at them and we'll discuss the choices and colors this evening._

 _Also, I've made a decision about buying a few things for myself. When I retire, I want to leave all the old things behind me … black dress, strict hairstyle, and yes, even the corset. On pages 17-22, you'll find a few things that might pique your curiosity. I've circled a few that I think are rather nice, but I'd appreciate your opinion, too. I'm sure Mrs. Wigan would be most jealous if she knew my husband helped select my pretty new undergarments._

 _Looking forward to spending another enjoyable evening with you, Charlie._

 _All my love,_

 _Elsie xo_

 ****** Hopefully another chapter next week. If you have an idea for a "decision" for Charles and/or Elsie, message me. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thanks! Xoxo


	3. Chapter 3

**Decisions - 3**

"Who are you, and what have you done with my husband?" Elsie Carson stood in their modest little kitchen with her hands on her hips and staring at her husband as if he'd just morphed into something from another world.

"That's not funny, Elsie," he said gently, even though the eye roll he gave her before answering was one impressive enough to cause Elsie to lose her resolve and smirk.

"Seriously, Charles, what on earth … and where would we put it? What's wrong with the way we're doing it now? And you, of all people, the man who had a hissy fit when I bought a toaster years ago … you are telling me you are fine with this change?"

Charles took both of her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. "Why don't we go into the living room, and I'll explain everything? I think, once you hear my side of it, you'll understand and will be happy about it." He placed a light kiss to the back of each hand before gently tugging her into the other room, sitting down on the sofa, and drawing her into his arms.

She snuggled into his side and rested her head on his shoulder, his large hand safely cradled in both of her much smaller ones. "I'm listening," she said, encouraging him to get on with his tale.

"It was His Lordship's idea, really. That's why he asked me to visit the house today. I couldn't tell you then because I told him I wanted to speak to you first. You see, he wants to buy a new refrigerator for the house. Mrs. Patmore doesn't know yet, so that was one reason for the secrecy earlier."

"I don't understand. Why does she need a new one? The one there now is in perfect working order, it suits her needs, and she's finally started to enjoy the benefits of it. It doesn't make any sense."

"Be that as it may, he is planning to upgrade it, and he wanted us to have the older model. He asked me to the house today to discuss some slight renovations to the cottage that will need to be made, mainly some electrical work, and you'd need to decide where, precisely, in the kitchen that you'd like it placed."

Elsie shifted so she could look directly at him. "And you agreed to all of this without talking to me first?" She couldn't believe the turn of events this day was taking. Her husband, the man who absolutely detested any change, was actually encouraging her to consider upgrading their kitchen, albeit slightly, with a modern appliance.

"I would never make a decision like this without speaking to you first. I will admit that it sounds like a good idea. We wouldn't be forced to store our food in the meat safe outside. It would all be quite handy in the kitchen. If we had leftovers, we could simply put them in the contraption and have them later or the next day. Less worry about food going bad before we can eat it, too. And just think, on those cold winter mornings or evenings, we wouldn't have to dash outside for whatever it is we need."

Elsie listened intently to her husband waxing almost poetic about the addition to their small kitchen, almost not believing she was hearing him correctly. "And, if we were to accept his offer, which I am gathering you're in favor of doing, when would all of this take place?"

Charles rubbed the tip of his ear and coughed rather weakly. "Ah, well, you see, he's already ordered the new one for the house, and it's to be delivered next week. So, I would suppose, you'd need to tell Mrs. Patmore tomorrow that she's getting a new one while I tell His Lordship that we'll be taking the old one. If you agree, of course," he added hastily and with a crooked smile.

Elsie shook her head. "Of course, we'll take it, you daft man! It's a generous gift. But why do I have to tell Mrs. Patmore? Shouldn't that come from Her Ladyship as it did before? Or is it that they fear some sort of rebellion in the kitchen and spoiled puddings for a week if she breaks the news?"

"Something like that," Charles said softly before leaning over and kissing Elsie's cheek. "I'll walk you to work in the morning and tell him that we'll gladly accept his generous offer. Now, before we go to bed, we need to decide where we're going to put it so that he can arrange for the proper electrical outlets and wires to be installed."

The week passed with quite a bit of grumbling from Mrs. Patmore about the new appliance for her kitchen. She was happy that Charles and Elsie would be gifted with the older model, but she was rather upset that she hadn't been consulted or at least told by Her Ladyship about the new one. Regardless, Elsie managed to calm the cook's mood and by Sunday, she was looking forward to the coming week and the delivery.

"So, Mrs. Patmore, are you excited about tomorrow," Charles asked as they were chatting outside after Sunday services?

"I don't know if excited is the right word, Mr. Carson. More like resigned to my fate."

Elsie scoffed. "Oh, come now. You were telling me on Friday that you thought you might be able to fit more things into the new machine and you'd seen pictures of it already in a magazine Her Ladyship had sent down with Miss Baxter."

"So, what if I was? We might very well ask you if you're excited about getting the old refrigerator."

"Yes, I heard you were getting a more modern kitchen, Mrs. Carson." Elsie involuntarily shuddered as she heard the sickeningly sweet voice of Mrs. Wigan. With her back to the woman, Elsie rolled her eyes and sent a quick prayer heavenward that the encounter would be brief.

"And who told you about that, Mrs. Wigan?" Charles intervened, trying to spare his wife from having to interact with the woman they both found annoying and nosy.

She smiled sweetly at Charles. "Mrs. Berkeley, of course. Her son is the one that did the work at your home on Thursday. He was telling her how nice and cozy the cottage was, how the house smelled of freshly baked cinnamon bread, the little wedding photo he saw on your fireplace mantle. He made it sound like a quaint little home."

Charles bristled with each detail the woman rattled off about their home, considering it a serious breach of etiquette that the man hired to do work would then go and share details of their home with his family and friends. He was about to say as much and then some but was interrupted by Beryl Patmore.

"It's a wonder he didn't rifle through the mail that usually sits on their kitchen table, though I'm sure you'd have no need of that information," she shot back quickly.

"It is my job, Mrs. Patmore, to sort the mail for everyone in this village. If I didn't do it, then the post would not be delivered." Mrs. Wigan offered her a weak smile, hoping to put an end to the discussion on the matter of Mrs. Berkeley's son and the post.

Elsie reached over and quietly slipped her hand into Charles's, giving it a squeeze. "Yes, I'm sure we'd all wonder what would happen if you were not our postmistress," Elsie replied. "I'm sure the village would be quite at a loss for words."

Mrs. Wigan turned her attention back to Elsie and raised her head a little higher. "Why, thank you for that, Mrs. Hugh … Carson," she said, quickly amending her slip. "And might I say what a lovely dress you're wearing today. Is it new, perhaps?"

Charles and Beryl could see the trap being set by Elsie and had known this day was coming. It was only a matter of time.

"As a matter of fact, it is new. It arrived in the packages Charles picked up for me the other day. I don't believe you were working that day. Mr. Wigan said you had stepped out rather quickly when you saw my husband heading to the office. I trust you weren't unwell."

Mrs. Wigan's face flushed. "Oh, no. I … erm, simply remembered something I needed to do. But, I must say, I was more than a little curious about the packages you received. I suppose you went on a little shopping spree from the catalogue you received the other week."

"It would appear so, yes, but not all of the things were mine."

The postmistress laughed. "I did wonder why the men's pajamas were mixed in with those daring new undergarments," she said, and immediately realized her mistake.

Elsie had noticed that one of the packages had been opened and had teased her loving husband about sneaking a peek at her new brassieres and knickers before she had a chance to model them for him. His sincere and vehement denial at having looked into any of the packages was enough to convince Elsie that someone else, someone local, had rifled through her package. And now she had confirmation of her suspicions.

"And tell me, Mrs. Wigan, which color brassiere and knickers do you think I'm wearing today with my new dress? My sweet and attentive husband, here, thought the satin, pale blue looked rather nice on me while I quite enjoyed wearing the lacier cream colored one."

Beryl had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from bursting into laughter which would have caused an even bigger scene in the churchyard. Charles was to the point of almost hyperventilating and his cheeks were redder than any apple in the orchard they passed on their way to church. Elsie, on the other hand, stood tall and proud, eyebrow arched, and her best stern housekeeper glare firmly in place.

Mrs. Wigan's mouth opened and closed, making her resemble a cod fish out of water. "I … I don't know what you mean, and what a very inappropriate thing for you to say!"

"Don't you? How else would you have known that there were pajamas mixed in with my undergarments? I'm sure your husband wasn't sneaking a peek at the apparel in my boxes," she said with as innocent an expression as she could muster given the circumstances.

"He would NEVER," she declared forcefully.

"Then, perhaps, you should show him a copy of the catalogue. It might inspire him, as it did my Charlie. He does spoil and pamper me, so." Elsie looped one arm around Charles and one around Beryl. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be off. My new refrigerator is being delivered tomorrow, and I need to make sure my little love nest is nice and tidy … you know, in case anyone should wish to comment on my housekeeping skills. Good day."

When they were clearly out of earshot of the offensive woman, Charles grabbed Elsie and kissed her firmly on the lips, leaving her and Mrs. Patmore quite speechless. When he pulled back, he was blushing. "I don't know whether I'm mortified or proud of what you just said and did back there, Elsie Carson!"

"Well, I can tell you that I, for one, am prouder than a peacock! That woman's had it coming for years. Maybe now she'll think twice about spreading her gossip and snooping through people's private letters and parcels," Beryl declared with a gleam in her eyes.

"Let's just hope she doesn't make US the talk of the village," he reminded the ladies.

"She wouldn't dare," Elsie said dismissively. "She wouldn't want the entire town to know that either she or her husband opened my parcel containing my unmentionables and how horrified I was when she broached the subject after church." She waited a moment and then burst into hearty laughter.

When her best friend had managed to regain some composure, she dared to ask. "So, which is it, Elsie? The blue or the lace?"

Elsie gave Charles a wink and grinned. "You'd have to ask Charles, I'm afraid. I let him decide today."

 **A/N:** Several of you mentioned in private messages and reviews that you'd like to see what happens with Mrs. Wigan and Charlie with the undergarments. I hope this will satisfy your curiosity. I will admit that it felt rather good to let Elsie give her a proper dressing down and to give us a little peek into what may have happened in the Carson's bedroom. Lol Thanks so much for sticking with me and for all of your support. The Chelsie fandom ROCKS!


	4. Chapter 4

**Decisions 4**

He took a steadying breath and tugged on his waistcoat, a true sign that he was, indeed, nervous. His task was not an easy one, but it was also one that he would never entrust to someone else. He removed his pocket watch and noted the time, quickly calculating where everyone should be at this point in their day. Years of habit and routine were providing him with crucial information in his most desperate hour of need. With a silent prayer leaving his lips and flying towards heaven, he eased open the back door and stepped inside, pausing to get a more accurate account of the house and its occupants.

Daisy and Mrs. Patmore were in the kitchen discussing dinner preparations. From the sounds of their conversation, there weren't to be any guests this evening. The menu was too simple for guests. The smell of silver polish assaulting his nose led him to believe that Thomas … Mr. Barrow now … had the footmen busy polishing the silver. Charles nodded his head approvingly. Softer voices floating down the hall from the servant's dining room were easily identified as Miss Baxter and Anna. He briefly wondered if the little baby was with his mum or upstairs in the nursery with nanny. On any other day, he would have relished the chance to see the lad, but his task was of a more serious nature today.

Satisfied that his lovely wife was either behind closed doors or perhaps upstairs for some reason or another, he tiptoed quietly into the kitchen. He slipped, unnoticed and without a sound, into the room, quickly pressing his finger to his lips when his presence was detected by Mrs. Patmore and Daisy.

"Mr. Carson! Come by for a spot of lunch, did you?" Mrs. Patmore couldn't help but tease the former butler since he frequented the house at least two or three times a week, at the invitation of the current butler. It had been Mr. Barrow's way of including his mentor as much as possible and of keeping the housekeeper happy as well.

"No, afraid not, Mrs. Patmore, not today," he said solemnly. "My visit today is not a happy one. Do you know where Mrs. Carson might be? I need to speak with her urgently."

Beryl noticed the furrowed brow of her friend and his serious tone and nodded her head in the direction of the housekeeper's sitting room. "She closed herself in there an hour ago. Said she wanted to get some paperwork done so she could leave a little earlier tomorrow. I haven't heard a peep from her since."

Charles offered her an appreciative smile. "Thank you. Might you do me a favor, Daisy? Would you make a pot of strong, sweet tea and take care of the meal preparations for this evening … as much as is possible? I fear Mrs. Carson is going to need Mrs. Patmore's company in a few minutes, and I would be grateful for your help."

"Of course, Mr. Carson. I'll be happy to help. I can finish dinner and take care of the kitchen for as long as Mrs. Patmore needs me to. I was planning to do most of it tonight, anyway."

"Thank you, Daisy. I know I have no right to ask but …"

"What's wrong? You've got me worried, Mr. Carson," Beryl asked, already drying her hands and starting towards the doorway before Charles held up his hand to stall her.

"I need to speak with Elsie first. Then, she can tell you or give me permission to do so. Right now, though, I need to speak with her. I'd appreciate it if you could also keep everyone away from her office. We don't need to be interrupted."

"Of course. I'll be as unmovable as the Rock of Gibraltar! Go! We'll take care of things and be ready when you or she needs us."

Once again, Charles took a deep breath before he reached for the handle to the housekeeper's door. He tapped softly, twice, just like old times. A small smile quickly passed his lips as decades of memories flooded his mind with that singular thought. How many times had he knocked gently on her door before entering, to be met with a beaming smile from the woman who would one day be his wife? Too many to count, he reasoned, and he stepped across the threshold.

"Hello, love," she said sweetly, immediately putting down her pen and rising to greet him with a hug and kiss. "What brings you here? Or is this one of your lunch days with us, and it slipped my mind?" She motioned for him to take a seat in his favorite chair as she positioned herself in front of him, her hands caressing his cheeks. "Whatever the reason, I'm glad you're here. I needed a break from the numbers. Maybe after lunch …"

Charles grasped both her of her hands and brought them to his lips before tugging her down to sit on his lap. Her arms instinctively went around his neck and shoulders and she leaned against his solid frame. He wrapped her tightly in his arms, as if that could make what he had to say any less painful, somehow shield her from the hurt he was about to bring into her … no … their lives.

"Elsie, sweetheart, I need to speak to you about something. Please, let me finish before you start asking me questions. Promise me?" She nodded and slipped back a little so she could see his face.

"Something's wrong," she immediately surmised. "Is it your hands? Did you have to see the doctor about something? The house on Brouncker Road? What did those workmen do to our home?" she said, already working herself up into a state.

Charles placed his finger across her lips to silence her. "My hands are steady today. I haven't seen Dr. Clarkson. And, as far as I know, the house is fine. No need to murder the workmen," he said with a smile. "But, I do have some news." He kissed her softly on the lips then proceeded with his story.

"I was taking a mid-morning nap in my chair when the phone startled me awake. I thought it might be you or Mr. Barrow, but it wasn't. It was Becky's home," he said gently, letting that sink in before continuing. "They were calling to tell us that she's gravely ill, love. When she didn't show up for breakfast this morning, they went to her room. They found her unconscious and racked with a high fever."

At that, Elsie stood up and began pacing the room, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle and her bottom lip caught firmly between her teeth. "Why didn't they call me here at the house? Why did they phone the cottage? What's wrong with her? I need to call them immediately!"

Charles crossed the room and pulled her into his arms, her back to his chest. "They tried calling here but the line was engaged so they called the cottage hoping to catch you there since it was an emergency. I spoke with the nurse in charge of her care and then to the doctor who saw her this morning. It seems she's very weak and unresponsive. Elsie, love, they don't expect her to make it through the night, assuming she is strong enough to last the day. They said her breathing is very shallow, changed even from the time they found her earlier. I'm so sorry," he said softly, pressing a light kiss to the back of her head as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Without any warning, Elsie turned in his arms and buried her face against his chest. Her shoulders began to shake with her soft sobs as her heart shattered, splintering his into a million pieces, too. For the longest time, he simply held her, steadied her as best as he could, holding her tightly and wishing he could take all of her pain away. When he felt her began to calm a little, he pulled back and reached into his pocket for his handkerchief. "Here you are," he said quietly, guiding her to her chair and helping her to sit. He knelt down in front of her and gently wiped at her eyes causing even more tears to fall as his tenderness touched her heart.

"I don't know what to do, Charles. There are so many things to think about, so many things to do," she said, wringing her hands together in desperation." He pressed the monogramed cloth into her hands and kissed her forehead.

"We're going to take a few minutes and let you settle down a bit. Then, Mrs. Patmore is going to come in and have some tea with you while I go upstairs and speak to His Lordship. You're not going to stay here and try to finish out the day. You're coming home with me and we'll sort this out together."

"Charlie, I need to speak to them at the home. I need to hear for myself. It's not that I don't believe you; I do, but maybe something has changed. Maybe she's roused and is better, or will be soon," she said in earnest.

From the account Charles had been given only an hour ago, he doubted the situation had much improved, but he understood Elsie's need to hear things for herself, to ask her own questions, and to realize that sometimes time doesn't heal everything. "We will phone them as soon as we get back to the cottage. I promise. But, right now, Beryl is going to sit with you while I go see about a few things upstairs." He kissed her cheek then cradled it in his large hand. "She doesn't know. I wanted to speak to you first. Do you want me to tell her or would you like to tell her what's happened?"

Elsie shook her head vehemently. "You. I don't think … I can't say it," she said as a fresh wave of tears pooled in her eyes. "Please!"

"Ssssh, love," he said, drawing her head against his stomach and holding here there for a moment. "Deep breaths, Elsie. Just take one moment at a time. Don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of it all." He held her for a moment longer before disengaging himself from her tight embrace and stepping into the hallway where he was immediately met by Mrs. Patmore.

After quickly filling her in, Charles stopped by the kitchen to thank Daisy once more and to give her the news as well, before heading upstairs to speak to His Lordship. As luck would have it, Charles found Tom Branson and Robert in the library going over some estate plans. Telling them at the same time would certainly expedite things, though Thomas would most likely be put out that he was the last to know of the staff changes.

"Of course, she must go home," Robert said, never hesitating in the least. "I'm fairly certain there are no house parties planned for at least the next week, so there is no reason why Mrs. Hughes shouldn't be allowed to take as much time off as she needs to attend to her sister and anything else that arises as a result."

"Thank you, Milord. I should have spoken with Mr. Barrow on the matter, but time is of the essence. I need to take her home so travel arrangements can be made. We will want to be on the first train tomorrow. If she had her way, we'd on a train to Lytham St Annes tonight."

"Mr. Carson, why don't you take Mrs. Hughes and go home? I'll drive down to the station and get your tickets sorted for you, then stop by your cottage later. I'd like to see her to offer my support, and I'll come by in the morning and drive you to the station."

Charles was a little uncomfortable allowing Mr. Branson any control over their personal lives, but he tried to think of Elsie and how best to help her. "Very well, Mr. Branson. Thank you for your kindness. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find Mr. Barrow then escort my wife home. She wants to phone the home and then there's packing to be done, too."

The remainder of the day passed in a blur for Charles and Elsie. As soon as Mr. Barrow had been notified that Mrs. Carson would be taking several days off with the full knowledge of His Lordship, Charles escorted Elsie back to their cottage. Daisy had kindly prepared them a simple basket to take with them and a few sandwiches for the trip the following day.

Elsie had phoned the home where Becky stayed only to learn that her condition had been steadily declining, though she had roused enough to ask for her sister. The separation from Becky and knowing that they may not arrive before the worst happened broke Elsie's heart. Charles had given her a Beecham's powder and some strong tea and escorted her to bed. He drew the curtains in their bedroom and made her promise to stay there until he called her for supper.

Mr. Branson stopped by as Charles was setting the table for their dinner and arranged a time to return to the house in the morning. Charles insisted that there was no need to drive them to the train station but Tom stressed that it would be a way of repaying Mrs. Hughes for helping him through the darkest days after Lady Sybil had passed. Acknowledging the help that his wife had given to others, Charles thanked him and promised to tell his wife that the young man had stopped by.

Dinner was a very quiet affair. Elsie was too worried to eat much, though she did try for Charles's sake more than her own. Her eyes kept darting towards the phone, expecting the blasted thing to ring at any moment with the worst possible news. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and Charles knew something had to be done.

"I need you to eat the rest of your roast and potatoes, please, while I go upstairs and draw you a bath. Then, I'm going to pack our cases and get those ready for the morning. You can look through what I've packed before we leave, but not tonight. After your bath, I'm going to tuck you into bed with a large brandy, we'll discuss anything on your mind, and then you should sleep, or at least try. You're going to need your strength, love."

Elsie reached across the table and took Charles's hand in hers. "You have it all sorted, don't you, Charlie?" She offered him a weak smile as her vision clouded with unshed tears. "I have so many thoughts rushing through my mind. I don't even know where to start."

"Start by doing as I requested, and leave the washing up to me. When you're ready, you can tell me everything you're thinking and we'll sort through it all together." He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "For better or worse, remember?"

"I remember, and I'm ever so grateful you're here with me." She brought his hand to her cheek and nuzzled it for a moment. When she was ready, she released his warm hand and turned her attention back to her food while he went upstairs to draw her bath, turn down the bedding, switch on the bedside light, and choose a comfortable nightgown for her.

Her water had grown cold, though she hadn't noticed at all, when Charles slipped into the bathroom to see if she needed assistance. With love and care, he helped her towel off and slipped the soft, cotton nightgown over her shivering body. When the house was secured and all the lights switched off, Charles crawled into bed beside Elsie and drew her into his arms. With tenderness in every touch, he guided her head to rest on his chest and gently stroked her back and arms, occasionally pressing light kisses to the top of her head.

"I don't know what to do, Charlie," she said softly, her voice fragile and shaky. "So many questions, so many decisions. Do I leave her there or bring her here? She's never even visited here, so in some ways it doesn't seem fair, though it will break my heart to leave her behind. I've always taken care of her," she said as hot tears started to fall.

"We will never leave her behind, lass. She will always be with us, especially you. She'll live on in your memories and the stories you tell me of her. You have photographs, and we can bring anything you'd like back here with us. We're in no rush to do anything at the moment besides making it to her side. That's all. Everything else can be decided later. His Lordship assured me that we have his support. Miss Baxter and Anna were more than willing to step up and help Mr. Barrow with the house. And my main job is to take care of you, my girl."

Elsie nodded and hugged him a little tighter. Several long moments passed before she breached the silence again, first with her soft sobbing, then with her feeble voice. "She's all alone, Charlie. What if she's scared and there's no one there to hold her hand? I should be there with her. I should have made more time to visit her."

Charles pushed Elsie away from him so he could clearly see her face by the soft lamplight. "She's not alone, Elsie. I swear it to you. While you were in the bath, I phoned for an update. The nurse I spoke with said she's stabilized, though it's only a matter of time. She was very clear about that. I made her promise me that someone would sit with Becky until we arrived tomorrow, even if the worst happens. Someone will be right by her side, holding her hand. Somehow, I knew it would worry you." He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Please, close your eyes and try to sleep. We'll need to be up early in the morning to catch our train. You focus on that and let me worry about everything else."

"Thank you, Charlie. I love you so very much."

"I love you, too. And whatever happens, we'll get through it together. I promise I won't leave your side for a single minute."

True to his word, Charles did not leave Elsie's side for the next several days. A few hours after they arrived, Becky slipped from this world to the next, with Elsie and Charles by her side, each holding her hand and Elsie singing her sister's favorite song from childhood. It was peaceful and they both felt certain that Becky had waited for them, knowing how hard it would be on her big sister if she had died before they arrived.

While Elsie focused on sorting through Becky's meager belongings, carefully packing up things she wanted to keep and donating others, Charles took care of other arrangements. He phoned Downton Abbey to let the family, both upstairs and downstairs, know of the circumstances and an approximate date of their return. He spoke with the local clergy and arranged for a small, intimate service to be held in Becky's memory, and even secured a burial plot in the local church cemetery.

It was a lovely service, attended by several of the staff from the home, the owners of the sweets shop in the local village, the postmaster and his wife, and a few of Becky's friends. Charles had arranged everything down to the last detail, leaving nothing to chance and alleviating Elsie of the tedious decisions while including her on the main ones.

Snuggled into their bed after an emotional few days and a long train ride home, Charles reached out to draw Elsie into his arms but she refused. "Not tonight, love. Tonight, I'd like very much to hold you in my arms," she said, inviting him into her warm embrace. "I don't know how I would have had the strength to endure these last few days without you by my side, helping me."

He settled into her arms, his head pillowed on her chest and his arm draped heavily across her stomach. "I wouldn't have been anywhere else. But, you're a strong woman, Elsie Hughes, and you would have found the strength to do right by Becky, even if I hadn't been there. You've always been the strong one."

"It's Carson," she reminded him with a smile in her voice. "And it's nice not having to always be the strong one. Sometimes, it's comforting to know that I don't have to do all of this alone. There's someone who loves me, who stands beside me, and who will always steady me."

He tilted his head up and captured her lips with his, letting the kiss progress slowly and softly but stopping before he went too far. "We should probably try to get some sleep. I'm sure Mrs. Patmore and Mr. Branson will be stopping by tomorrow to offer their condolences. Everyone has been quite concerned about you, Elsie."

She stroked his cheek tenderly, lovingly, as she looked into his eyes. "They needn't have been. I have the best husband in the world who loved me through my darkest hours and brought me home safely." She raked her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead as he had done for her many times over the course of the last few days.

As they slipped off to the most restful sleep they'd had in days, Elsie couldn't help but smile as she imagined her parents and Becky reunited. She had hoped her Mum and Da would be able to see the amazing man she had married, the life they were building together. But now, even if they hadn't seen, Becky would be sure to tell them all about Charlie and how he took care of the Hughes sisters in his own special way.

 **A/N:** If you've made it this far, I thank you for reading the entire chapter. I was torn between three different "decisions" and debated for days on which option to choose. Several of my friends suggested I follow my heart and not my head. So, my heart won the battle. This wasn't an easy piece to write for several reasons. You guys know me. I don't do angsty stuff. I'm a fluffy bunny with a side of sugar. But, this idea wouldn't leave me alone. I could clearly see Charles taking charge, making some difficult decisions at a time when Elsie might have trouble focusing because of her grief. I see Elsie as a very strong and independent woman, but even she would need the support of her husband and friends at a difficult time such as this. Remember her breakdown in series 3 from her health scare? Anyway, sorry for the long note. If you're so inclined, I'd love to hear your thoughts via a review. Thanks to everyone for your constant support by reviewing, reblogs, comments, likes, and private messages. The Chelsie fandom is the best! Free Kleenex for All! xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Thanks for your lovely reviews and comments on the last chapter. This one is most definitely happier than the last! Hugs for everyone! And now I give you …

 **Decisions 5**

Charles sighed softly as he watched Elsie from the comforts of their bed. She was seated at her vanity table and pinning her hair up into neat little twists, beautiful yet practical as always. It wasn't often that he remained in bed once she started her day but Elsie had insisted he get some additional rest. After all, they had stayed up rather late the night before, though neither of them had any complaints and certainly wouldn't trade that time for anything in the world.

"You're staring, again," she chided gently. "You didn't leave a mark, did you?" She gave him a little smirk and turned halfway in her seat to face him fully instead of watching him through the mirror.

"No! I learned my lesson. Besides, you know that I didn't linger long in the neck area last night," he said with a proud smile on his face. "I had other plans, and apparently, you did, too." He stretched and groaned happily as his body reminded him of the active evening he'd shared with his wife.

Elsie shook her head and laughed. "I wish I could stay with you this morning. I'd gladly snuggle against you and take another little nap, maybe even rest up for an afternoon spent happily in the arms of my attentive husband."

"Not many more weeks, love, then you can. The first week of your retirement, we'll make sure to stay up late, enjoy bottles of wine, sleep longer in the mornings, and make lots of time for cuddles and kisses," he said with a quick wink and a sly grin.

"You, Mr. Carson, are very distracting! I should make a list of the things I want to do around here while I still have my wits about me. I have a feeling that once I retire, we'll get very little done in those first few months."

"I'm sure we won't let standards slip … too much," he said with a chuckle. "Besides, it was you who reminded me that we could afford to live a little. If a few things don't get done as quickly as they once did, it won't matter as long as you're by my side. If there's one thing being married to you has taught me it is that my world doesn't turn on the style of a dinner." He stretched out his hand and offered it to her. "My world revolves around you and our life together."

The sincerity of his words and the tone of his voice spurred her to move from her seat to perch on the edge of the bed beside him. She brushed the curly lock from his forehead and cradled his cheek in her hand. "I love you, Charlie," she said before leaning down to kiss his lips softly. "I always respected Mr. Carson but this side of you, the one only I get to see, is my favorite. You're happier and I can see the young lad in you, especially when you smile with your eyes." She leaned down and kissed his prominent nose, his eyes, and finally his lips.

Charles wrapped his arms around Elsie and held her as tightly as he could without wrinkling her dress. "If you don't leave now, Mrs. Hughes, you're going to be late, and you know Mrs. Patmore will never let you hear the end of it. She will accuse us of all sorts of wicked things."

Elsie smacked his chest and laughed. "And today, she might just be right." She watched as Charles brought her palm to his lips for a very soft caress. "What do you have planned for today, assuming you ever get out of this bed?"

Charles cleared his throat and tried to brush off her question with a vague reply. "Oh, I'll probably putter around in the garden. I noticed your rose bush was starting to lean a little after that last rainstorm. I thought I might walk into town to the bakery and pick up something tasty for dessert tonight. Maybe stop by the grocer, if you need anything."

"Seeing your friend at the post office, today?" Elsie teased with a sparkle in her eyes.

Charles pinched her bottom then smacked it. "Most definitely NOT visiting the post office. That, my dear, is your responsibility. I might go down to the home farm, if you need anything."

"You were just there two days ago. And, if I'm not mistaken, a few days last week. Surely, it can't be that interesting, and we don't really need that much food here since Mrs. Patmore sends dinner home most nights."

Charles shrugged nonchalantly. "I enjoy the fresh air, walking through the area, sometimes chatting with some of the others there about this and that. Besides, you're always telling me to get out and socialize more, and I'd rather do it there than in the village where the gossips love to latch on to every little thing and spread it."

"Very well, love. You do whatever makes you happy. If it's visiting the farm on a daily basis, then who am I to tell you no?" She patted his chest and gave his hand a squeeze before leaving the bedroom, then the house, to start her day.

On the walk to Downton Abbey from the cottage, Elsie's thoughts turned back to the night before and their morning banter. She smiled happily to herself as she relived those glorious hours spent in the arms of her adoring husband and the way he looked so proud of himself this morning. But as she replayed their conversation, her mind kept calling her attention back to the home farm and his frequent visits.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly bumped into the young lad delivering the dry goods for Mr. Addler's store. "Careful, Mark! Watch where you're going, lad!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Carson. I was in a hurry and didn't see you," he said, definitely not brave enough to tell the housekeeper that she was the one not paying attention. "I left the invoice with Mrs. Patmore, if you've any questions."

"That's very kind. I'm sure everything is in order."

"Yes, mam. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to run. Mr. Addler said if I get my deliveries made quickly, I could go with him to the Downton farm again this afternoon, and I'm very keen to go."

Elsie's curiosity was piqued. She'd never really seen much at the home farm that would entice her to go on a regular basis, and certainly nothing to make her especially keen on going. "Is there something special happening that I haven't heard about?"

"Not especially, no. It's just that recently the farmers who run it have started allowing the locals to bring supplies, livestock, and other animals to sell or trade, sometimes give away. I don't care much for seeing the cows and sheep, stuff like that, but I do enjoy seeing the dog and cat litters and even the rabbits."

She smiled kindly at the lad. "Well, don't let me keep you. I hope you'll enjoy the pups and other animals."

"Thanks, Mrs. Carson. I'm sure I will. I'll be sure to tell Mr. Carson I bumped into you this morning, too," he said, quickly hopping on his bike and peddling away quickly before Elsie could ask him any further questions.

"You're late," Beryl Patmore said as Elsie stepped into the house and closed the door behind her.

"My, my, mother! Were you waiting up on me? I'm afraid my beau and I got a little carried away." Elsie couldn't help but tease her friend a little, knowing that she could give as good as she got.

"Good thing for you that I wasn't! And by the sound of you, you had a cozy evening at the love nest last night," she whispered a little too loudly for Elsie's liking.

"Contrary to what you may believe, Mrs. Patmore, married life isn't all fun and games." Elsie tried to fix the cook with her best glare but as images flashed through her mind of the fun she had had with her husband the night before, the stern façade began to crack.

"I'm guessing last night wasn't one of those "no fun and games" sort of evenings," she countered with a cheeky grin. "Mr. Carson not joining you this morning? I didn't see him kiss you goodbye."

Elsie knew better than to tell her friend that Charles was still in bed, with a very satisfied smirk on his face, when she left the cottage. "He had a few things he wanted to do today so I told him to stay home. He said he's going to work on propping up my rose bush and a few other little household chores."

"Never thought I'd see the day when Mr. Carson got his hands dirty with roses and soil or did any sort of housework. Wonders never cease!"

"That's not fair, Mrs. Patmore! He does quite a few things around the house. He doesn't sit around all day polishing the silver, decanting wine, and laying the table for our supper. He has interests and hobbies like everyone else, and he's become rather interested in the home farm."

The cook wrinkled her nose. "Mr. Carson? At the home farm? Whatever for? Wouldn't have pegged him for a veg and cattle man," she said, laughing heartily at her own joke as she returned to the kitchen to oversee the morning breakfast.

Throughout the day, Elsie couldn't get the idea of Charles visiting the home farm out of her mind. There was no logical reason for him to go and no valid argument she could think of for him not to visit occasionally. Perhaps, if she offered to meet him there one afternoon, he might surprise her and enlighten her on his recent fascination. With her mind made up, she gathered her belongings and headed home to her husband, excited about her idea.

As she unpacked the basket in their modest little kitchen, Charles wrapped his arms around Elsie's waist and dropped a kiss to the side of her neck. "I missed you today," he said, his lips whispering the words just beneath her ear and causing her to shiver.

"You daft man! I'm sure you had plenty to keep you busy. Did you get the roses propped up with the lattice?"

"Your roses are glorious. If it wasn't so dark outside, I'd take you out there to inspect my work, madam. But, since the moon is already shining, you'll simply have to trust me. Now, would you kindly pay me for my labors?"

She turned in his arms and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Here is some bread to get your started. I'll bring the rest in once I have it plated."

"Bread? That's all I get for my hard work? I must renegotiate the terms of this arrangement. Maybe we should discuss my payment over the chocolate cake I purchased today. I'd be willing to share it with you, provided you give me a cuddle later."

"Chocolate cake, you say? Hmm, I'll think about it!" She shooed him out of the kitchen and began quickly plating up their supper.

Their light banter continued throughout the meal and during the washing up, both enjoying the freedom to simply be themselves and to bask in the love and companionship of each other. Given the way their evening was going, Elsie thought it might be a good time to broach the subject of the home farm.

"I've been thinking, Charlie. I have most of my work caught up and the invoices are all paid, so I might take some time in the afternoon tomorrow for a little walk. I wondered if you'd like to join me or maybe meet me somewhere."

He slipped his arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side. "I'd love that very much, Mrs. Carson. I could stop by after lunch, if you'd like, and we can take a stroll around the gardens or down by the lake." She burrowed herself deeper into his embrace and mumbled something incoherent into his chest. "Sorry, love, what was that?"

"I said, maybe you'd like to meet me at the home farm. I'd like to know why you visit it so often. Maybe you could show me what interests you so much," she said softly. Suddenly, she felt a little nervous, though she had no real reason to be. Part of her wondered why he was keeping his visits so secretive, locked away from her. It hurt her feelings to know that there was something in his retired life that she wasn't privy to.

"It bothers you that I visit so often, doesn't it?" he asked without any hint of irritation in his voice.

"I wouldn't say it bothers me. I'm simply curious. You never used to care one bit about going and now it's an almost daily occurrence. Even Mark from the grocer commented to me this morning that he sees you there. I'd merely like to share your enthusiasm, or at least understand it so I don't feel left out in the cold."

Charles wrapped her tightly in his arms and kissed her temple. "I would never, ever, leave you out in the cold, love. I didn't mention it because, at first, it was simply a means to get some exercise, get out of the house, away from these walls. I know you worry about me bottling myself up and cutting myself off from people. I thought if I started regular walks to the farm, it would give me some interaction with others and some fresh air."

She reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly as she listened to him pouring out his heart to her. "You said … at first. Is that not the case now?"

He closed the distance between them and kissed her softly. "I'll pick you up after lunch, and we'll take a little walk. I'll explain everything along the way. You have my word on it."

She returned his kiss and stood to her feet, tugging on his hands until he was standing, too. "Sounds like you have a date, Mr. Carson. If you're a really good lad, I might even let you kiss me on the way there and back," she said, before guiding him up the stairs to their bedroom for some much needed sleep.

True to his word, Charles arrived at Downton Abbey just as the luncheon plates were being cleared away in the servant's hall, and Elsie was more than ready to get away. She'd thought of little else since their conversation the previous night. So, with her arm tucked securely through his, the couple headed out for an afternoon walk to the home farm.

They walked in silence for a bit, simply enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air, but Elsie couldn't stand the suspense any longer. "Charlie, I don't mean to pry …"

"Yes, you do," he teased, "but I'm prepared for it," he replied, dropping a kiss to her cheek. "You want to know why I am visiting so often. I don't blame you, but let me assure you, it's nothing serious."

"I didn't think it was anything horrible, and I feel bad for even asking now." She slowed her steps as she pondered her next sentence carefully. "I don't know why, but it felt like a part of you was slipping away from me, a part of you that I wasn't privy to, and I worried. Childish, I suppose, but there it is."

"It's not childish, Elsie. I didn't tell you because … well … it seemed silly to me. The dreams of a boy can sometimes seem monumental when you're young. Then, you grow up and the dreams are still there but in a different perspective."

She stopped and stepped in front of him. "Don't tell me you've always wanted to be a farmer and you're thinking of ploughing up the back garden and my lovely roses."

"Elsie, love, if we had to depend on my gardening and farming skills for food, we would be in serious trouble. No, that's not it at all." He turned her around and patted her bottom playfully, encouraging her to continue walking as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to his side.

"So, we're not taking up farming but something clearly has you intrigued enough to make this walk on a regular basis."

"Her name is Katie," he blurted out quickly.

"Sorry! Whose name is Katie?" Elsie's quickly ran through the list of women she knew from the village, not coming up with a single Katie, Katharine, or Kathleen in the mix. "You'd better explain yourself, Mr. Carson."

They were nearing the edge of the farm when Charles stopped walking, knelt down, and whistled. From out of nowhere, a spritely little dog came running towards them, and she did not stop until she was licking Charles's face and being scratched behind the ears. "Elsie, meet Katie." The scruffy dog was small, white, and with black patches across her body. Eyes the color of chocolate seemed to sparkle with unconditional love and trust as they looked at the burly man kneeling in front of her, accepting her love gratefully.

Out of excitement and relief, Elsie burst into laughter. "You have been coming all this way for a dog … or the dog's owner?"

Charles looked at Elsie with a grave expression. "The dog, Elsie, only the dog. She belongs to Mr. Flint, though he's trying to find her a new home. He never wanted a dog and Katie belonged to Mrs. Flint. Since she passed away, he said he didn't really care to keep the little girl."

Elsie knelt down beside him and was immediately greeted with enthusiastic kisses from a very happy dog. "She certainly is friendly, and she's very cute. I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to keep her. That's her home. It would be like giving away a family member," she said, truly upset by the very notion.

"He brings the dog here in the hopes that someone will want her, though so far, there've been no takers. I bring her scraps, sometimes. If we have leftovers from our breakfasts or even sometimes dinners the night before, I'll slip her a few when I visit. She follows me around whenever I visit, and it's always hard to leave her behind. I never know if each time is the last one I'll see her."

Elsie stood and observed the scene before her. "And what does Katie have to do with boyhood dreams and all that talk?"

"Ah, that. When I was a little boy, I wanted a dog of my very own. With both of my parents in service, obviously, I wasn't allowed to have one, but I suppose the desire never truly went away. Since I retired, I've been thinking more and more about pets. Then, I met Katie, and that little boy in me has been dreaming of taking her home one day."

She ran her fingers through his hair and down his cheek until she was able to tilt his head up to look at her. "Why didn't you just say something, Charles? Did you think I'd honestly say no to us owning a dog?"

"It's a big decision, Elsie. Suppose we take the dog and something were to happen to me like it did Mrs. Flint? Then, you'd be saddled with a dog you didn't want and the poor thing would be left in the lurch again."

Elsie grabbed Charles's ear and tugged on it until he was forced to stand to alleviate the slight pain she was causing him. "First of all, let's not talk about what might happen to you in future, if you please. We're both in good health and there's no reason to even consider one of us leaving the other. Secondly, we always had dogs on the farm when I was growing up. So, I'm not opposed in any way to considering one now. And lastly, whatever gave you the idea that I would be against you getting a dog?"

Charles rubbed his throbbing ear while he listened intently to every word his wife was saying. Only when she indicated that she was finished did he dare to speak. "I apologize, Elsie, but it is something that crosses my mind from time to time, especially since Becky's sudden illness and death. It's not pleasant, but it is something we cannot avoid forever. And, while you haven't given me any indication that you dislike dogs, you've never expressed an interest in having one … only cats," he said with a shrug of his shoulder. "I assumed that if we ever got a pet, that'd be what you'd want so I contented myself with visiting Katie as often as I could and hoping she'd fine a good owner."

"Charlie Carson, if I didn't love you so much and enjoy sleeping next to you, I'd make you sleep on the sofa for the next week. I wasn't sure what to expect from our outing today, but the love of a dog certainly never entered my mind."

Charles reached down and scratched Katie's ear. "I think she's a little upset with me, girl, but since I'm not sleeping on the sofa, maybe it's not all that bad," he joked, earning him a laugh from Elsie.

"Come on, ye daft man with a dog. Let's go see Mr. Flint and tell him Katie is coming to live with us."

Charles's mouth dropped open and he stared at his wife, not daring to believe what he was hearing. "Seriously, Elsie? It's a big decision, one we shouldn't make lightly."

She smiled and stood on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "It is a big decision and one we've just made … together. If only you'd told me about this weeks ago, you and Katie could have been enjoying naps in the garden, leftovers from the breakfast table while they were warm, and treks into the village. But I warn you and Katie both, I'll need your time and attention, too, Charlie. She may be cuter than me, but she can't keep you warm at night like I do."

And with that, Elsie started walking towards Mr. Flint's stall, leaving a very red-faced Charlie and one excited dog by his side.

 ****** Thanks so much for reading the story. I'd love to hear what you thought of this "decision" if you're so inclined! HUGS! Until next time …


	6. Chapter 6

**Decisions 6**

As soon as Elsie walked through the door of their little love nest, she took a long, deep breath and released it slowly, letting her mind make the transition from stern housekeeper to loving wife. She had been keen to see Charles ever since she'd left him and Katie snuggled together on the sofa with Charles reading the morning paper and their little dog napping with her head on Charles's thigh. Ever since Katie had joined their household, she and Charles has been almost inseparable, even at night. Despite their best efforts to entice her, Katie wanted nothing to do with the small bed near the fireplace in the bedroom, opting instead to sleep on the bed at Charles's feet.

As Elsie's body and mind released the stress of the working day, her senses were overwhelmed with so many wonderful things. Her face felt the warmth of home, their home. It was cozy and quaint, the perfect temperature for a relaxing evening, she realized, as she took off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. She was sorely tempted to retreat upstairs for a long soak in the tub and her favorite nightgown even before having her supper.

And the thought of food, her stomach growled loudly as her sense of smell recognized the distinct aroma of freshly baked bread and a hearty stew, something Charles was getting better at cooking. Since his retirement, he had tried to help more around the house, keeping up standards as he liked to say. Occasionally, he would surprise Elsie with a home cooked meal, something simple yet satisfying, a treat she always enjoyed.

As she rounded the corner, her sense of sight was rewarded by the vision of her husband puttering around their kitchen, one of her aprons tied around his waist. She shook her head as she stood and watched from the doorway. Her handsome husband never did anything by halves. His crisp white shirt was tucked neatly into his black trousers, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and a matching white apron protected his clothing, as best as it could, considering how ill-fitting it was on him. She wished she could capture the image and preserve it for all time. Her Charlie was in their kitchen, cooking, and looking very relaxed and happy about it all. None of the servants at the Abbey would ever believe this was the former butler of the prestigious household.

And her Charlie was certainly rested and happy. So far, she'd been home several minutes and he had yet to notice her arrival. Even Katie, who was usually rather good at picking up on odd noises, did not stir from her little corner of the kitchen. No doubt, Charles has been feeding her little tastes of their supper and she couldn't be persuaded to move for fear of missing out on another treat. From the looks of her, she was getting more and more snacks, if her expanding belly was anything to judge by. Their little girl was also being serenaded. Charles was happily singing as he stirred the stew, opened the oven door to check the bread, and pulled a few things from the refrigerator. Elsie's mind raced back to the first time she had heard him singing. It was a faded memory of him standing in the nursery holding Lady Sybil in his arms, soothing her back into a peaceful slumber.

Deciding that it was time to rejoin the present, Elsie shook her head and stepped into the kitchen. She scratched Katie's ear and stepped beside Charles at the stove, slipping her arm around his waist and leaning into his side. She had thought she might surprise him but judging from his reaction, he must have heard her enter the front door. He turned and pressed his lips to hers in a warm, welcoming kiss. When she finally pulled back, she licked her lips. "Someone's been in my shortbread," she said before leaning up for another kiss.

"Maybe just one, perhaps two. I needed something to tide me over until you returned, and supper smelled so good," he answered with a sly wink.

"It smells heavenly, and I'm starving. Let me wash up, and I'll set the table."

"No need. It's all done. Go sit down, take off your shoes, and rest. It won't be long before it's time to eat. Your mail is on the table. It's a new catalogue. I'm thinking of ordering a few things from them, but I'd like your opinion first."

She patted the small of his back and brushed her fingertips of her other hand along the top of his ear and trailed them down to the base of his neck. "Wouldn't you rather just go to Ripon and have Mr. Stewart tailor some new shirts for you?"

He shivered as her fingertips ghosted along the sensitive skin of his neck just beneath the collar. "I never said the items were for me, love. Now, go rest and supper will be ready soon." He took her hand in his and pressed a light kiss to her palm before ushering her out of the kitchen and towards the sitting room, Katie following closely behind, eager for some time with her new mam.

Charlie's meal did not disappoint. They each had second helpings of the lovely beef stew and bread, and completed the meal with a blueberry and rhubarb crumble from the bakery in town. Elsie was telling Charles about her stressful day with Mr. Barrow when she suddenly remembered the letter in her coat pocket. She quickly retrieved it and handed it to Charles upon her return to the table.

"Mr. Molesley stopped by to see Miss Baxter today, and he asked me to give this to you."

Charles took the sealed envelope and looked at it with a curious expression. "What's it say, and why would he deliver it to you?"

"Now, how should I know what it says, Charlie? It's addressed to you. I wouldn't read your mail," she replied with thinned lips and a shake of her head.

"Wouldn't be the first time," he countered with raised eyebrows and a smirk playing about his lips.

"That was a different set of circumstances, and we both know it. You'd already opened the letter, and it's a good thing I did read it. Look at all the wonderful things we now have to show for that one bold move on my part."

Charles reached over and laced his fingers with hers. "True. It must have been your master plan to read my discarded letter, force me to forgive an old friend, coax me into shedding my socks and shoes at the beach, lure me into buying a house, and then seduce me with your shy demeanor until I declared my undying love for you to your best friend and pledging to worship you with my body in front of all our friends and family." He finished his grand statement with flair and a smile curling about his lips.

Elsie burst into laughter, startling the dog and causing Charles to laugh, too. "When you put it like that, I really am quite the plotter, even when I don't mean to be. Now, are you going to read that letter or am I going to have to do it for you?"

He laughed and eased open the envelope, taking a moment to read the contents before his smile turned into a scowl. "Absolutely not! I cannot believe it! Utterly ridiculous notion," he grumbled, tossing the letter on the table towards Elsie. "What on earth was he thinking?"

"Well, I wouldn't know, would I, since you haven't exactly said what was in the note? I'm sure it wasn't anything terrible since it is Mr. Molesley, after all."

"You may feel differently when you read it," he countered with a nod of his head, urging her to read the letter for herself. He watched her face intently as she scanned the words on the page before her lips curled into a broad smile.

"Charles, this is wonderful. I don't see why you believe it's such a strange idea. I would've thought you'd be pleased, honored even, to be offered such a chance."

He sat up straight in his chair and puffed out his chest. "An honor? You can't be serious, Elsie. What he's asking … well, I can't possibly accept."

Elsie began clearing away the table, gathering their plates and silverware and starting for the kitchen. "He's asking you because he believes you to be the best man for the task, and I happen to agree with him. In all my years of working at Downton Abbey, I've never seen a more qualified person to lead such a group. Even His Lordship always deferred to you when it came to matters like this, and you well know it."

"Be that as it may, that was always for the good of the household. He may feel differently now that I'm no longer working at the estate. It would feel like a betrayal."

Elsie placed the dishes in the sink, quickly turned around and leaned against it, her arms folded in front of her. "It's hardly treason, Charles Edward Carson, to impart your knowledge and help others hone their skills. That's all Mr. Molesley is asking. Besides, you'd be working with the children!"

Charles dared to step close to Elsie, gently pulling on her arms until they were uncrossed. He slid his hands slowly along her hips and leaning into her before resting his hands on the countertop behind her. "It's not treason, no, but," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper and leaning his forehead against her shoulder, "with my hand … what good could I do? I'd end up being an object of ridicule for the children, they'd go home and tell their parents about "poor old Mr. Carson" and that would be the end of it."

Elsie wrapped her arms around her big bear of a man and held him tightly against her. She now understood his reservations and his trepidation. She stroked the back of his head and pressed a light kiss to his ear. "Your hand won't stop you from teaching them, Charlie. Trust me. You'll be spending time with these children and giving them something most don't get at home. You can take Katie with you and those who don't want to learn about cricket can play with her. She'll get so much love and attention, you'll show the children the finer points of cricket, and you'll be doing Mr. Molesley a favor. Just think about it, at least sleep on it, before you tell him your answer."

He turned his head and kissed the side of her neck softly. "How can you be so sure? Some days, I can't even manage to hold a glass in my hand without it shaking terribly. And I don't understand why Mr. Molesley would want me to instruct them on the finer points of cricket."

"Because he respects you, Charlie. He has seen how you've guided the house team to victory each year against the town team and he's even benefitted from your guidance. He wouldn't ask you if he didn't truly believe you to be the best man for the job. Some of these children get very little attention outside of school and they already know you as a kind and respectable man. It will give them, and their parents, a chance to see the Charlie I know and love with all my heart." She cradled his face in her hands and raised his head so she could kiss him sweetly on the lips. "But, you don't have to decide tonight. Let's go upstairs for a cuddle and you can sleep on it."

She grasped his hand in hers and switched off the kitchen light, intent of leading him upstairs to their bedroom. Before she could take two steps, his arms snaked around her waist and pulled her into his arms. "I wish I could see myself through your eyes, sometimes," he said, hugging her tightly to his chest.

"Come upstairs with me, and we'll discuss exactly how I see you. Perhaps, if you're not too tired, I could show you a few things, too, assuming, of course, that you don't feel your hand could keep you from enjoying a little recreational activity." She playfully swatted his bottom then stepped out of his embrace, calling the dog as they quickly climbed the stairs to the bedroom.

Over breakfast the following morning, Charles was incredibly distracted. He pushed his eggs around his plate and hardly noticed when Katie pawed at his leg for another piece of his bacon.

"Daydreaming, Mr. Carson, or reliving a dream from last night," Elsie teased, stretching her leg beneath the table to rub her foot against his calf.

"A little of both, Mrs. Carson, if you must know." He gave her a warm smile, his eyes darkening a little as a particularly vivid memory flashed in his mind. "But, mainly I've been thinking of Mr. Molesley's offer. If you truly believe I can be of some assistance to the children, then I'll at least speak to him and discuss the offer. I won't visit the schoolhouse every day, mind you. I still have things around the house and our garden to tend to. And I won't go on your days off. Those are strictly for us to enjoy together."

Elsie smiled and leaned across the table to kiss him hard on the lips. "You won't regret this, Charlie. I know it. I feel it in my heart. It will be good for you, Katie, Mr. Molesley, and all those young lads and lasses. All we're asking is that you give it a try. If you do and then you decide you're not enjoying yourself or the children don't seem as interested, then you can call an end to the lessons. The cricket ball is entirely within your grasp, Mr. Carson. Now, get out on the field and show them the finer points of the game." She stood up and walked around his chair, seductively sliding her arms over his shoulders and brushing her lips against his ear. "Besides, you know how much I enjoy seeing you in your cricket whites," she purred softly. "The day of the match has always been one of my favorites simply for the view." She nipped his earlobe and walked away to gather her things for her walk to work, leaving a flustered Charles Carson in her wake.

For the next month, Charles visited the schoolhouse a few days a week, weather permitting, to offer what little instruction he could to anyone interested in learning more about cricket. Mr. Molesley had arranged with several of the parents for the students to remain after hours in order to attend Mr. Carson's lessons. Word had spread quickly and soon most of the students were staying, either to participate, watch, or simply to entertain Katie, the beloved mascot of the adventure.

"I've had a letter from Mr. Starr in Ripon. He teaches at a similar school to ours, and he wonders if our children might be up for a friendly game of cricket in two weeks. Seems they heard of our after school program and started one of their own," Mr. Molesley explained to Mr. Carson after church one Sunday.

Charles thought for a moment and looked over towards his beautiful wife who was deep in conversation with Mrs. Patmore. She had believed in him when he'd doubted himself. She had encouraged him to share his knowledge with the children and the results had been rewarding. The children were respectful, eager to listen and learn, and even showed serious talents. It was one of the best decisions he'd made since retiring. When Elsie looked over in his direction and gave him a very subtle wink and a smile, he raised his chin and gave a decisive nod to acknowledge her. "I believe our team is ready for a little friendly competition. Arrange everything with Mr. Starr, and I'll make sure the lads are ready."

"I'll phone the schoolhouse in the morning and arrange everything. Thank you, Mr. Carson. The students and I are very appreciative. I'm sure they'll want to do you proud, better than I ever did on the house team."

"Your heart was always in the game, Mr. Molesley. That is more than can be said for some who take to the field. And I would be remiss if I did not express my thanks to you for suggesting this little adventure. I've enjoyed getting to know your students and teaching them what I know of the game."

Word of the cricket match between the two schoolhouses spread quickly throughout both villages and excitement was contagious. Elsie had even been summoned to the library to give His Lordship an account of the arrangements, and he had promised that the entire family would come out in support of Carson and his team, though he had asked her to promise not to say a word to Carson for fear of unnerving the man. Elsie had agreed with his assessment and promised to keep it their secret.

When the day of the match finally arrived, Charles was a bundle of nerves. His hand was trembling so much that he could barely hold his tea cup, and more than once, Elsie had caught him furiously rubbing the offending hand in an effort to work away the tremors.

"You'll be fine, love. Just remember that you're not playing, and it's all for fun. The children, regardless of whether they win or lose the match, will have a grand time. It's their chance to show you what they've learned from you," she said, soothing his hand between hers. "I'll be there to support you, and I promise there's a reward waiting for you when this day is over."

"Really? What's that?" He rested his forehead against hers and waited with baited breath for the answer.

"I received a small package at the house yesterday. Seems my husband put the wrong address on the catalogue order, and it arrived at Downton instead of here. I managed to sneak it upstairs when you and Katie were surveying the pitch."

"Hmm, so regardless of how this day goes, the evening is sure to be enjoyable for both of us."

"It's going to be a lovely day, Charlie. And, there's an added bonus."

"What's that?" His eyes darkened a little as he stared down into her flushed face.

"I get the pleasure of seeing you in cricket whites all day and helping you out of them later." She stretched onto her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the lips. "But, it wouldn't do for you to be late to the game. Your pupils might think you've abandoned them. I promised Mrs. Patmore I'd help her with the refreshment stand. I think she's made enough sandwiches to feed half of England, and she's baked you a special treat for being so kind to the students."

"Apple tarts?" he asked with boyish enthusiasm.

"Even better. Tarts for the stall but, you, my lad, will be bringing home an entire apple pie. She's packing it in a picnic basket that she's sending home with us. I didn't think either of us would want to cook tonight so I asked her to kindly pack our supper."

"With apple pie and a wife who is teasing me with thoughts of our evening, how could this day possibly get any better?" He drew Elsie into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips, silently thanking her for pushing him towards the decision to work with the students and encouraging them through this test match.

Much to his surprise, and the surprise of the parents in attendance, Charles Carson's team won the cricket match, albeit by a narrow margin of two additional runs and only three wickets lost. However, what truly made the day memorable was seeing the entire Crawley family sitting along the sidelines as they cheered on Carson's team, enjoying the match with great enthusiasm. Watching as Elsie and Mrs. Patmore served tea and refreshments to everyone in attendance and knowing that she was incredibly proud of him made all of his efforts a worthwhile endeavor. But most importantly, at the end of the day, it all came down to the looks on the faces of the young men he had mentored to victory. The rousing cheers they offered up in his honor made all of his original concerns over the decision dissipate into a now faded memory.

And, as the exciting day drew to a close, Charles finally understood exactly how much his wife enjoyed seeing him in those dazzling cricket whites. The apple pie could wait until morning.

 **A/N:** Thank you for your continued support for this story. Your encouragement, reblogs, likes, comments, and reviews are amazing! I'd appreciate hearing your thoughts on this "decision" if you have a moment!


	7. Chapter 7

**Decisions 7**

It was a quiet morning at the Carson's little cottage. The alarm had not sounded, breaking into the stillness of the early morning hours, though Elsie was wide awake and had been for some time. Charles, her doting husband, was blissfully oblivious to his wife's uneasy mind. As he lightly snored beside her, little puffs of his breath stirring the wisps of hair around her neck, Elsie shivered slightly and snuggled deeper into his arms.

This was the day that Elsie thought would never come for her. Since her mother had died leaving Becky in her care, Elsie had never dared to dream she would be lucky enough to retire. Unlike most women in their younger days, Elsie rarely dreamed of marriage, a marital bed, children, and a happy little home of her own. No, she had faced the stark reality that was her life. She would work and spend most of her earnings on the care of her younger sister. She would devote her waking hours to the happiness of others, rising early and going to bed late, eating what was placed on the table in front of her, and enjoying the occasional half day off for herself.

But, despite her devotion to service and her job, Elsie's heart had been stolen by the man sleeping next to her. The kind and gentle man had, in his own way, courted her throughout their years of working side by side. Intentions were never shared but it was clear that they were each other's best friend, confidante, equal in almost all things. Now, as she looked back on all those years, Elsie realized that despite never formally declaring their love and devotion to one another, it was clearly visible in almost every single interaction, lying dormant until quite recently.

As quickly and quietly as she could, Elsie extracted herself from Charles's arms, shivering a little as the early morning chill greeted her as she eased the sheet and quilt aside. She had to smile as Charles grunted a little having felt the loss of his wife in his arms. She looked back over her shoulder to see him wrapping his arms around her pillow, burrowing his face deeper and inhaling the vanilla scent which lingered. She indulged herself for a moment, watching him sleeping so peacefully, a small smile curled about his lips as he experienced some wonderful segment of a dream. Leaning over him, she placed a feather light kiss to his lips, tucked the blanket a little tighter around him, and then padded downstairs to make her first cup of tea of the day and a slice of toast.

As she slipped the last bite of her toast with strawberry jam into her mouth, she felt a soft kiss to the top of her head and warm arms wrapping around her shoulders from behind. She had been lost in a myriad of memories, some good and others less so, and she had not heard him approach.

"Up awfully early this morning," he rumbled into her ear before kissing her sweetly on the lips. "And already having breakfast without me?" he scolded lightly.

She cradled his cheek in her hand and ran her thumb along his lips. "Not exactly. I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd make some tea and toast. I was going to let you sleep for a bit longer. No sense in both of us getting up this early when it is me who couldn't rest."

Charles took his usual seat at the table and reached over to take her hand in his. "You should have nudged me. I would have gladly listened to whatever is on your mind or at least held you while you worked through it."

She smiled sweetly. "I know you would have, and I love you for it, but I don't even know what I'm feeling this morning. It's all a jumble, and I think I needed a few moments alone to gather my thoughts."

Charles glanced quickly at the grandfather clock in the far corner of the room then stood, pulling Elsie to her feet as well. "We have plenty of time before you have to dress for the day. Why don't we start this day with a little cuddle on the couch? We're both awake, and it's much too early to send you to work." He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her into the other room, settling on the sofa before drawing her into his arms. "Still a bit chilly, so let's snuggle beneath the blanket," he suggested, already moving it from the back of the couch to cover them.

"Charlie, really, you don't have to do this. I'll be fine. I promise. I'm simply experiencing a lot of feelings this morning."

"I know that, and I truly understand it. I simply don't want you getting yourself worked up before you ever set foot out of the door this morning. So, please, close your eyes and let me take care of you."

She leaned up and kissed him softly and slowly on the lips before resting her head on his chest, her arm draped securely around his waist. She was silent for several minutes, and if it hadn't been for her uneven breathing, Charles might have assumed she had fallen asleep. Eventually, though, she broke through the comfortable silence filling the room. "I was thinking back over all my years at Downton when you came downstairs. I didn't even hear you come into the kitchen."

"Mmm, I could tell," he answered in a low rumble. "I didn't wish to startle you. You looked deep in those thoughts."

"I was remembering some of the better days along with some of the darker ones. I'm not one to dwell on memories but I couldn't help it this morning."

Charles pressed a kiss to the top of her head and raked his fingers through her long hair, marveling at its softness. "I remember your first day like it was only yesterday." She shifted to look up into his eyes, tears of happiness pooling in hers at the sentiment. "You were wearing a pale blue shirt, cornflower I believe is the color they call it these days, and a dark blue skirt that reached your ankles. You had shiny black boots, and a lovely hat with tiny flowers on them. I remember them as being daisies but I was never quite sure, and my memory isn't what it used to be."

She scoffed at the very idea. "Nonsense! Your mind is still as sharp as a tack. It was a cornflower blue blouse, dark skirt, and they were daisies. I cannot believe you remember that, Mr. Carson."

He puffed out his chest a little, proud at having remembered their first meeting with clarity and accuracy. "I also remember how very thin you looked, standing there in the doorway with the brown suitcase and looking so incredibly young. A mere slip of a girl, I believe is how I described you to Her Ladyship when she asked if you'd arrived safely."

"Oh Charlie, you never!"

"I did, and it was true. I even approached Mrs. Matthews about ensuring that you were eating well and taking your tea breaks with biscuits and sandwiches. I know it wasn't any of my business, especially back then, but I knew the work you were doing was hard, and you'd need all of your strength."

"You dear, sweet man. I never knew. She never said, though I did wonder why she was always insisting that I eat an extra biscuit or sandwich. And it always seemed that my plate was a little fuller than everyone else's at the beginning."

"Well, now you know my great secret, Elsie Carson. Even then, all those years ago, I was protecting you and trying, in my own way, to care for you."

"And I couldn't love you more for it and for all of the years that followed. I've been a very lucky woman."

"I'm the lucky one, Elsie, make no mistake about that. I never dreamed that one day I'd be sharing my home, my deepest thoughts, and even my bed with a beautiful woman who loved me in return. I was convinced I would die in the harness, as you well know, but now, I'm looking forward to many more years of doing things for enjoyment, not out of servitude, and with you by my side."

"Funny you should say that. I was going down a similar path with my thoughts this morning. I was thinking back over everything we've been through and how it all brought us here." She shifted so she was a little closer to him, his warmth, his solid frame, his aura of strength and security. Despite her fear of falling back to sleep given how relaxed she was feeling, Elsie closed her eyes and remained quiet and motionless for several long minutes before finally pushing herself up and folding the blanket.

"Feeling better, love?" he asked with tenderness in his voice, his hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly.

Elsie turned and looked into his concerned eyes, unshed tears pooling in her own. "I can't do this on my own, Charlie."

He cocked an eyebrow and tried to lighten the mood. "You really need my help in getting dressed this morning? Usually, you tell me I'm distracting you, stop or you'll be late, or save that idea for later." He gave her a little wink and watched as a smile curled about her lips.

"No, not that, though after today, you won't have to worry about me saying those things except maybe on Sunday mornings from time to time. What I mean is the Abbey. I need you with me. Please," she asked, a pleading tone to her voice that he rarely heard.

"Of course, love. Anything for you. We'll go upstairs and dress. I'll walk you to work, and then I'll come back later and escort my beautiful bride home." He drew her into his arms and cradled her head to his chest, resting his chin on top of her head as he held her tightly. Reluctantly, he released her and took hold of her hand, leading her towards their staircase.

"That's not what I meant either, Charlie. I don't want to face this last day without you by my side. You were there when I first started Downton, and I've decided I need you to stay with me for the very last day. Please. I know it sounds silly, but there it is. I need you by my side, and not just for today, but for every day."

Charles kissed her sweetly on the lips as his thumbs brushed away the tears from her eyes. "Come along, lass. If we hurry, we can make it in time for a nice, hearty breakfast with everyone before you start your last day of work. I can pack up things in your office while you oversee everything else. I'm sure no one will mind the old butler spending the day in the housekeeper's sitting room."

Elsie smiled and leaned into his touch. "The housekeeper of today thanks you from the bottom of her heart, and your wife looks forward to filling her retirement days with you, Mr. Carson. Perhaps tomorrow, I can teach you all about breakfast in bed … after we've had a long morning cuddle."

"Just a cuddle," he asked, patting her bottom as he ascended the stairs in front of him, something they both knew he appreciated.

"Well, we have to start somewhere, don't we?" she called back over her shoulder. "I do wonder, though …"

"Wonder what, love?"

"I wonder if the butler of the Carson's Love Nest would be interested in joining the housekeeper for a nice glass of wine this evening. I hear she has a pretty pale blue, almost cornflower, colored nightgown she's been thinking of wearing."

Charles gave a low growl and quickly wrapped his arms around his wife from behind, eagerly cozying up to her and whispering into her ear. "The butler accepts the invitation and will look forward to it all day long, Mrs. Carson. He might even have a few surprises of his own for her, but we'll have to wait and see. After all, tomorrow is the start of a brand new chapter for this butler and housekeeper, and I intend to enjoy every single minute of it."

"That makes two of us, Charlie. Tomorrow, we embark on our very own grand adventure, and I couldn't be happier because I'm sharing it with you."

 **A/N:** Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with this story. Please know that each and every review, reblog, comment, like, fic rec, and private messages are appreciated greatly! I've said it before, but I'll say it again … the Chelsie fandom rocks!


	8. Chapter 8

**Decisions 8**

Their celebration had lasted well into the night, each knowing that there would be no logical reason for them to rise early on this particular morning. There would be no bells to answer, no servants to oversee, no trays to deliver, and most certainly no long walk up to the Abbey before the sunrise, only to return long after sunset.

Elsie had protested at first, saying that they had celebrated enough at the house with their friends and the family. She had been completely surprised by the overwhelming generosity of the Crawley family when she was gifted with a large retirement sum along with a party orchestrated by Beryl Patmore and the new housekeeper, Mrs. Baxter.

Charles had accompanied her to the house for her last day of work and was immediately given the task of keeping Elsie occupied so that the last minute preparations could be tended to without her knowledge. He had readily agreed, happy to see his lovely wife honored so greatly by everyone from the youngest hall boy to the Earl of Grantham, himself.

As the party dwindled down, Elsie excused herself for a few quiet moments alone in her sitting room which had been her sanctuary for many decades. Charles stayed behind to give his wife the time she needed to gather her thoughts and to say a private goodbye to her old way of life. This was something he completely understood and respected, having just been through it months earlier.

When she finally emerged, she greeted Charles with a warm smile, though there were unshed tears in her eyes. He was at her side in a moment and wrapped his arms around her waist before stepping forward until Elsie found herself standing just inside her sitting room door. But before she could give voice to her question, Charles captured her lips with his in a sweet kiss, his strong arms drawing her into a comfortable embrace. He lingered for a long moment, trying to convey his unspoken thoughts, willing her to understand that he knew how she was feeling and would be by her side each step of the way in their new life.

Once they were back home in their cottage, Elsie went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea but was stopped by her husband's hand on her lower back. His suggestion that they have their own little celebration after getting into more comfortable clothes was one Elsie found most intriguing, so she had indulged Charles, calling him an old romantic before heading upstairs to change into her favorite nightgown.

Now, as dawn was breaking on a new day, Charles woke and was surprised to find himself a little more rested than usual. He shifted gently, so as not to wake Elsie, and was happy to see that it was much later than their usual waking time. He rolled onto his side and eased Elsie closer to him, nestling her head against his chest and his warm hands skimming up and down her bare back, her nightgown and his pajamas long discarded.

"Mmm, what time is it, Charlie? I need to get up for work," she asked groggily, a thick fog of sleep mingling with the wine and celebration from the night before still clouding her mind.

"Not anymore, love. Welcome to retirement," he whispered into her hair. "We don't have anywhere to be today, so close those beautiful eyes and go back to sleep."

She was speechless for a moment, letting his words sink into her mind and heart. "Nowhere to be, nothing to do, no one to order me about," she said softly, as if the words might somehow shatter the window panes. She was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she was able to retire. Her worries of having to work for as long as anyone would have her were still not entirely banished but growing dimmer and dimmer by the day.

Charles chuckled and his deep voice resonated through to Elsie's soul. "I could take you somewhere, give you plenty to do, and I've had years of practice ordering people about, if that's how you'd like to spend your first day of retirement," he teased, tickling her sides until she was begging for him to stop.

When they had both managed to catch their breath, Elsie snuggled back into his arms, resting her head on his chest and toying with the greying, sparse hairs there. "I know this will sound strange, but even though I knew I was going to retire, I never paused to consider what my first day of retirement would be like. It all feels like some wonderful dream and any minute, I will wake up and find that it's almost time to start the day."

Charles pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Fortunately for you, you have a very intelligent and resourceful husband. I took the liberty of making a few plans, but they're all very tentative. We will do whatever you'd like, though my stomach would respectfully request that at some point in our very near future, we remove ourselves from this very comfortable bed and see about some breakfast."

Elsie raised her hand and placed her index finger into the cleft of his chin before tapping his lips. "Such a demanding husband I have," she said, trying to sound serious. "He makes decisions for me, requests that we have breakfast, and actually expects me to move so he can get out of this warm bed. I suppose the romance is over," she said with a dramatic flair. "Wait until Mrs. Patmore hears of my woes as a retired married woman and how the love nest is now just an ordinary nest."

Charles couldn't contain his laughter and without any warning, he flipped Elsie onto her back and hovered over her, staring deeply into her eyes and seeing all the happiness and love that he felt for her reflected back to him. "Yes, such a brute of a husband. I have it on good authority, though, that before his lovely bride woke, he had planned to cook breakfast and bring a tray up to her. After all, married ladies take breakfast in bed."

She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, drawing his face closer to hers. "Do you think I could persuade my handsome husband to stay a little longer with me and forgo the toast and eggs if I promise to make it worth his missed breakfast?"

He nuzzled her dainty nose with his much larger one then lowered his lips to the side of her throat, leaving hot kisses and nipping along the slender column from her jaw to her ear. "Breakfast be damned! Lunch is the better meal of the day, anyway," he growled into her ear.

As the sun was rising higher in the sky, Charles and Elsie finally untangled themselves from their comfortable and sated position in their bed to make their way downstairs. While Elsie set about making toast and jam for their breakfast, Charles took care of the pot of tea and setting the table, though not without several kisses to the back of Elsie's head, a stroke of her bottom, and a gentle massage of her shoulders. It wasn't until Charles slipped behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and snaked them up her chest to cup and gently massage her breasts before she moaned loudly and let her body slump against him.

"Mr. Carson, you are insatiable today."

"That's because my wife is fully retired, I feel wonderful, and I love you," he said honestly, his chin resting on her shoulder.

She turned in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck. "Well, when you put it like that, I'd say we both have every reason to feel wonderful today." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly on the lips just as the kettle started to whistle. "That would be your cue, Mr. Carson. Breakfast, or rather brunch, is served."

"If I wasn't so hungry, I might do something a little risqué in this kitchen with you, Mrs. Carson." He kissed her quickly on the tip of her nose, then moved out of her embrace to see to the kettle and their tea.

"If I'd known retirement would be like this, I might have given up work when you did," she teased, patting his bottom then taking their toast and jam to the table.

As they sat and enjoyed their little snack, Charles laid out his ideas for the remainder of their day. "I thought, and it's entirely up to you, that we might pack a little picnic basket and visit the lake. It's shaping up to be a pretty day, and we still have some of those leftovers in the refrigerator. I'd take care of everything. All you'd need to do is say you'll go."

"That sounds lovely, Charlie. It would be wonderful to get outside and enjoy the sunshine for an afternoon."

He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a light kiss. "I didn't get the chance to properly court you, Elsie, so I fully intend on making up for it now. Strolls through the village or countryside, picnics, dinners out occasionally, shopping, maybe even a trip to London … we can start living our lives together."

Tears sprang to her eyes as she listened to Charles detailing all the things he wanted and hoped to share with her. She'd had a few ideas of her own, especially about cultivating a garden in their back yard or perhaps revisiting the seaside for a night or two. But, just to know that her husband was excited about spending all of his free time with her as she was with him made her heart swell with happiness and pride.

"Why the tears, love? We don't have to picnic today," Charles said as soon as he noticed her eyes filling with tears. He began silently berating himself for the idea, thinking that he could plan something she might enjoy on her first day of retirement. "Tell me, what would you like us to do? Anything, anything at all, and we'll do it," he said, hoping to offer some reassurance and putting the decision back into her hands.

Elsie slipped out of her chair and into his lap, looping her arms around his neck. She rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly. "I'd like nothing more than to be courted and wooed by you, Charlie Carson, for the rest of my life. I'd love to take a picnic with you today, but maybe we could do that later, maybe a sunset," she suggested in a hushed tone. "We've spent years and years seeing very few of them since we were always so busy working. What I'd really like to do today is simple."

"Tell me, Elsie," he begged, his thumbs brushing gently across her hip and her thigh.

"I'd like to start with a walk down to the home farm with you and Katie. I'm interested in seeing the sort of plants they have available, maybe stop by and see Mr. Molesley's father to get some gardening tips for our back garden. Then, we can come back here and pack our basket and a blanket or two, head down to the lake, and stay until the stars come out to greet us."

"I'll be sure to pack two bottles of wine and some of the cake Mrs. Patmore sent home with us, and we'll need to take some food for Katie, too, if she's joining us." Charles was growing more and more excited by the minute, and he was sure it was written all over his face, though he couldn't have cared less.

"This is going to be a lovely day, Charlie. Thank you."

He kissed her cheek and smiled. "I can't promise you they will all be this relaxed and exciting. I'm sure there will be days when you'll grow frustrated with me, or I'll balk at something you want to do or change, but I can promise you this … every day will be ours and ours alone."

"Ours," she repeated with reverence. "What a beautiful word. And it may surprise you to know that you're not the only one who has had the occasional thoughts about how to spend our days here. I'm very much looking forward to that first rainy day we have."

"Hmmm, do tell the details, Elsie. I'm all ears."

She shook her head and grinned. "A wife has to have some secrets, Charlie, but I'm sure you're a smart lad and you'll figure them out soon enough. Let's just say I don't think I'll hear any complaints from you, though your stomach might be an entirely other matter."

He gave her thigh a squeeze and eased her off his lap. "We're wasting daylight, wife. You go on upstairs and dress while I clear away the dishes and let Katie out in the garden. We have much to do today and all the time in the world in which to do it."

"I love you, Charles. Promise me you'll never forget that."

"I won't forget because I see it in your eyes every time you look at me. I hope you can say the same about me," he said, a little unsure. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was fishing for a compliment.

"I see it in your eyes. I hear it in your voice. I feel it in your touch. I taste it on your lips. Your love surrounds me, Charles, in a way no other ever has."

He tugged on the belt of his robe and cleared his throat to hide his nerves. "I meant what I said: with my body, I thee worship and to love, honor, and cherish until death us do part."

"Hmm," she said as she began ascending the staircase to their bedroom. "Perhaps we can revisit that part about worshiping me with your body later tonight … maybe down by the lake," she called back over her shoulder.

The last thing she heard before the bedroom door closed was the sound of the silver knife clattering to the floor and Charles starting to sing a familiar tune, though with slightly altered lyrics.

 _ **Dashing away with a heart of gold, she stole MY heart away!**_

 **A/N:** Alrighty kids, we have come to the end of the "regular season" and it's time to wait for that Christmas special. I hope you've enjoyed all the decisions made so far. I hope to see you all back for Christmas, and if you're so inclined, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, too. Special shout out to Chelsiesouloftheabbey for her help with a particularly tricky part of this chappie. You are a SUPERSTAR!


	9. Chapter 9

**Decisions 9: The Christmas Special**

Elsie smiled as she opened her eyes and was greeted by the sight of her husband, his face so close to hers that she could feel each puff of breath and the warmth of it as it caressed her face. Her fingers itched with a desire to lightly stroke his regal nose, his massive eyebrows, his soft, supple lips, his large ears, and the charming cleft in his chin. With a strong will, however, she refrained and, instead, tucked herself a little closer in his arms, reveling in the scent of him, his solid frame, and his love. She wanted nothing more than to stay right where she was, but the day ahead of them was full and she had plenty to do.

After a few more moments of contentment, Elsie finally untangled herself from Charles's embrace, earning her a groan of displeasure as he now found his arms empty and his bed less enjoyable. Elsie pulled the blankets around him a little tighter and stoked the fire quietly before heading downstairs to make breakfast, hoping to surprise him with a breakfast in bed.

Within the hour, she returned, along with an enthusiastic Katie, to find Charles still fast asleep, her pillow now cradled in his arms and his hair sticking out wildly in all directions. She placed the tray aside and gently slipped back onto the bed, her desire to touch him returning with renewed force.

"Wake up, sleepy head," she whispered softly against his ear. Her warm lips traveled across his cheek and down to his lips where they brushed lightly against his. The corners of his mouth began to turn up and she knew he was slowly emerging from his slumber. She scratched his scalp with her fingernails as she drew his bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it slightly until he took that first deep breath of the morning.

"Mmm, what a lovely wake up call," he said, his voice still rough from sleep though tinged with the love and tenderness he held for her in his heart. "What time it is?"

She smiled and cradled his cheek in her hand. "Time you were up and about, Charlie. It's Christmas Eve, and we have plenty to do today." She watched him slowly open his eyes and focus on her face, though instead of seeing that childlike sparkle that usually invaded his brown eyes at Christmas, she saw only a dull glimmer of what used to be. Brushing it aside as nothing more than the first few moments of being awake, she leaned down and kissed him properly on the lips. "I made breakfast."

"Wonderful, love. Thank you. Give me a few minutes and I'll be down ... "

"No need. I thought we might enjoy breakfast in bed. I'll get everything sorted while you go wash your face and hands."

He brushed her hair away from her forehead and smiled. "I won't be long," he said as he slipped from bed and headed towards the loo. By the time he returned, Elsie had straightened the bedclothes, plumped and repositioned the pillows, and was lounging impatiently for his return. When he slipped back into the bed, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Thank you for this, Elsie. It looks delicious."

She watched him gently lift the tea cup to his lips and take that first soothing sip of the morning. "Is everything all right, Charlie? You seem a little … I don't really know, to be honest … off, I suppose. Did you not sleep well?"

"No, I slept just fine. I always do after we, well, after we enjoy ourselves as we did last night," he said, his cheeks turning bright pink with embarrassment as images of their lovemaking clouded his mind.

"That makes two of us. You certainly know how to make me happy, Charlie." She rested her cheek against his shoulder, not daring enough to look him in the eye as she finished her thought. "I never knew that _performing my wifely duties_ would be so very enjoyable, but you certainly make me crave them," she said with a low, almost seductive voice.

He cleared his throat and tried to tug on the bottom of his pajama shirt. "Yes, well, I'm glad you're not disappointed with that aspect of things. I can say I've never been happier, either. That is to say, I hope you know how much I enjoy … well, that side of things, too."

"Eat your breakfast, love. I think it's safe to say that we are both very happy in that department." She picked up a slice of crispy bacon and snapped it in half, feeding him a bite before popping the other piece in her mouth. "Now, let's talk about today, hmm?"

"What's there to talk about? It's Christmas Eve. We have the house decorated, stockings hung, presents wrapped. We should be able to have an easy day. I plan on finishing my book this afternoon so I can start on the new one tomorrow or the day after."

"What new book? What makes you so sure Father Christmas is going to bring you anything?" she teased.

Charles laughed heartily, waggled his eyebrows, and lowered his lips to the side of her neck. "Because I've been very, very good," he whispered, his lips stopping at the spot where her cheek met her ear, causing her to shiver and moan. "Wouldn't you agree?"

With her eyes closed and her body tingling, she let out a shuddering breath of desire and happiness. "Let's just say I may have put in a very good word with St. Nicholas on your behalf. After all, you have been doing the dishes more often and helping with the laundry."

Charles laughed so hard that he nearly spilled their tea all over the bed. "Since we're being completely honest, I will admit that I had a chat with him, too." Charles rested his head on her should and draped his arm across her stomach, hugging her closer to him.

"And did you tell him that my cooking skills have greatly improved so he won't need to bring me that cookbook after all?"

"No. I told him that he is allowed to visit this house but under no circumstances is he allowed to eat any of the biscuits in the kitchen since you made those for me, and I'm not a fan of sharing those. I told him he could have an iced bun we bought from Mrs. Callender. And I may have mentioned that he's to stay away from the mistletoe I'm planning to hang in the house today."

Elsie found she couldn't help but laugh, and she leaned into his arms as they both enjoyed the joke. "You've nothing to fear on that score, Charlie. You're the only man I want kissing me under the mistletoe … or anywhere else for that matter."

"Good. Then I won't add an extra log to the fire to keep him from coming down our chimney tonight," he announced, trying to sound serious given the nature of their discussion.

"Who knows? He might decide to visit us while we're at Downton Abbey tonight. I'm sure he knows how much we enjoy staying up late, watching the fire, and sipping whatever wine you've chosen for us."

Almost immediately, the mood shifted in the bedroom and Charles began to withdraw from Elsie and their playful banter. "Indeed," he said, making a move to get out of bed. "I should get these dishes downstairs and do the washing up. I'll clean the kitchen if you'd like to take a tub or read."

Elsie rested her hand on his arm, stalling him for a moment. "I was only teasing, love. You do know that I enjoy our quiet evenings as much, if not more, than you. I didn't mean to upset you."

He leaned back and kissed her cheek tenderly. "You didn't. Now, let me get these things downstairs and see what sort of state our kitchen is in after you've been cooking." He tried to inject some levity into the conversation but to no avail. "You take that long soak in the tub and leave the household stuff to me. It's Christmas Eve, after all, and you should be spoiled."

She ran her hand down his back lovingly. "You spoil me every day, in the big and the little things, Charlie. I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, gently rising from the bed and leaving Elsie a little confused about what had just transpired. Deciding to give it some thought and Charles some space, Elsie ran a hot bath and hoped that by the time she emerged, he would be in a better frame of mind.

Unfortunately, Elsie was not so lucky. While she had taken a bath, Charles has cleaned every surface in the kitchen, washed the dishes, straightened their sitting room, and swept the snow away from their front and back walkway. "You've been busy. What happened to finishing that book?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I can do that tonight, I suppose. I thought we might eat by the fire then have an early night."

She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly, inhaling the scent of his cologne and something uniquely Charles. "Sounds lovely but we can't do that tonight. Maybe tomorrow. We are supposed to head up to the house early this evening, before the children go to bed." At that moment, she felt him stiffen in her arms. "Charlie, whatever's the matter? You're not yourself, and I wish you'd tell me what's wrong."

He shook his head but couldn't meet her eyes. He had hoped he could avoid the conversation but Elsie was too good at reading his moods and worming her way into his mind until he had no choice but to share everything with her. He had known, since the moment his eyes first opened, that he'd need to tell her his decision, and she wouldn't agree with it or be happy about it. His only hope was that he could make her understand. When she took his hand and gave it a tug, indicating that they should go sit on the sofa by the fire, he knew the time had come.

"We will sit here until you're ready to talk to me, Charles. It's Christmas Eve, and I'd like to know what's upset you so much. You … we … were fine last night, or so I thought. Did I say or do something to upset you?"

He draped his arm around her shoulders and gave it a squeeze as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head. "Heavens, no. We are fine, Elsie. And last night was wonderful."

"Then, what happened between last night and this morning to put you in a mood? When I mention going to the house, you seem to change. That's certainly not like you."

He sat completely still and utterly silent for several long moments, thankful to Elsie for giving him the time to compose his thoughts. He pondered how to say what was in his heart and on his mind, struggling to find a way to make her understand why he couldn't go to the house, not tonight, of all nights. Finally, and without any preamble, he spoke.

"I'm no longer the butler."

His words confused her, and she bit her tongue to keep from replying with a sarcastic remark. His statement of fact was nothing new or earthshattering, certainly not something which should alter his mood so drastically at the mere mention of a home. Instead, she merely nodded her head and took his hand in hers, massaging it as she often did when his tremors seemed bothersome to him.

"So, you see, I can't go to the house tonight," he said, as if that explained everything with clarity.

She gave his hand a squeeze, forcing him to look her in the face. "No, I don't see, Charlie. I'm going to need more than that to explain your up and down moods today. You haven't been the butler for months. Nothing has suddenly changed. Help me understand what's going through your mind." She tugged his hand until he was safely ensconced in her arms, his head resting on her chest and her fingers were carding through his hair.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, releasing the breath and letting his shoulders slump in defeat. "Thomas will have duties to attend to this evening since it's Christmas Eve. I won't be needed, you see. I'd rather stay here and spend the evening alone, with you, than to go to the house and feel like a broken down old butler."

"Charles Edward Carson," she said tenderly, "you are not broken or old. You are retired with your wife and enjoying what most people take for granted. We both are. I don't see what serving drinks to the Crawleys or overseeing dinner this particular evening has to do with your reluctance to visit the house. You know we're invited for this evening and tomorrow's festivities. Do you not want to go tomorrow, too?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm looking forward to Christmas dinner and pudding with everyone. I'd never dream of denying you that treat, love. Truly, I hadn't planned on not going tomorrow."

"Then, what is it about this night?"

"The children," he said softly. "I'm not the butler so the children won't need me. I'd rather not go to the house and know that I won't be the one. The tradition will continue, but it won't be me this year," he said as a single tear slipped down his cheek, landing on their joined hands.

Elsie hugged him a little closer, her heart breaking as she finally understood his meaning and the emotions behind it. "Well, then, you'd best hang that mistletoe before your wife climbs up on the chair, and I'd best make a phone call to let them know we're celebrating at home this evening. Anything in particular you'd like for your supper, Mr. Carson?" She kissed his head and continued to hold him until he was ready to move forward.

"We have the rest of the chicken stew in the refrigerator. We could reheat that and have it with some bread. And there's plenty in the kitchen for dessert."

"Sounds like a lovely evening, then, love. You sort out the mistletoe and finish your book. I'll take care of the rest." After more than a few minutes cuddling on the sofa, Charles and Elsie shared a tender kiss then went about their tasks.

While Elsie puttered around in the kitchen warming their stew and bread, Charles turned on the wireless and found a station playing lovely Christmas music. He'd grumbled at first when the contraption had first appeared in the house, but now, listening to the soft music, he found himself grateful for it. He tossed another log onto the fire and turned on the electric lights on their tree. He had tried, for Elsie's sake as much as his own, to keep his mood light, despite his rocky start to the day, and he felt proud that he had mostly succeeded.

"Almost ready. Five more minutes and we'll be ready to eat," Elsie called out from the kitchen.

"Setting the table, now, and the wine is ready when we are," he called back, before starting to hum Silent Night along with the wireless. He was on his way into the kitchen when someone knocked on their front door. "Who on earth could that be at this time of night on Christmas Eve," he asked as Elsie joined him in the entryway.

"Only one way to find out," she said, just as bewildered. "Everyone we know should be at their own homes having dinner."

Charles raised his eyebrows at her cheek then went to the door, curious to see who was visiting them. As soon as he opened the door, though, his heart leapt in his throat. Standing on their threshold was Miss Sybbie Branson, Master George Crawley, and their parents.

"Barrow said you weren't coming to see us tonight," Sybbie announced before flinging herself towards him and wrapping her arms around his legs. Charles took the girl by the shoulders and eased her back so he could bend down to scoop her into his arms.

"Please, come in, milady, Mr. Branson, and Master George." Charles was shocked to see the foursome at their home on Christmas Eve, and one look in Elsie's direction showed she was just as surprised. "We were just about to have our dinner, but that can wait," he said, hoping Elsie could save their meal until later.

"I did suggest we ring you first," Mary Crawley announced, "but I was told that Christmas Eve surprises are always the best," she said, giving her niece a little wink.

Charles invited them into the sitting room as he hastily cleared away the place settings and wine glasses that had been set out for their stew. "May we offer you something to drink, something to eat?"

"We're fine, thank you, Mr. Carson. We came for … well, Sybbie, it was your idea. Why don't you explain?" Tom handed his daughter the present wrapped in tissue then watched with pride as she took George's hand and led him to where Charles and Elsie were standing.

"It's Christmas Eve, and you always read us the story." She handed Charles the book wrapped in white tissue and topped with a neat red bow. "Barrow said you weren't coming so I asked if we could come to you tonight, instead. We weren't sure if you were sick, so we thought we would come to you instead." Sybbie nudged George who turned around and took a small parcel from his mummy.

"We brought these, too. Shortbread biscuits. We made them with Mrs. Patmore today because we knew you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise."

Charles felt hot tears prickling his eyes and when he looked over his shoulder at Elsie, tears freely streaming down her cheeks, he lost his battle. He quickly sat down and opened his arms, inviting the children to sit on his lap.

Eagerly, Sybbie rushed into his embrace and wrapped her little arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "It's not Christmas without you reading me the story," she said sweetly. "But, didn't you want to read it to us this year?" Her little voice cracked as she buried her face in his chest.

The three adults looked on, all anxiously waiting to hear what Charles would say to the little girl who had stolen his heart from her first breath. "I did, very much, but you see, Miss Sybbie, that privilege is one that is usually reserved for the butler of the house. It has been since your mummy and aunts were little girls. Then, when you came along, then your cousins, I continued the tradition. Now that Mr. Barrow is the new butler, the honor is his."

"But we don't want him to read it to us. We want you. That's your job," Sybbie said, as if declaring the most obvious thing in the world. "That's why we brought our book to you. Please, read us the story and do the voices. You have the best voices for characters," she said, nodding enthusiastically to George.

The little lad, who had been quite reserved up until this point, stepped forward and climbed onto the sofa beside Charles, scooting closer and closer until his little body was pressed tightly against the large frame of the retired butler. "I'm a little hungry, too. Sybbie talks about visiting you and eating with you and Mrs. Hughes. Could we have something, too?"

"George! You will have your dinner when we get home," Mary scolded gently.

"It's no trouble at all, milady." Elsie quickly spoke up as she looked down at Charles and the children. "We were having some chicken stew, and there's plenty if the children want to eat. In fact, there's enough for everyone," she added, hoping Charles wouldn't be cross with her for impulsively inviting them to dinner.

"I'll help you dish it up," Tom said with a bright smile, taking Elsie's arm and escorting her to the kitchen and leaving Mary, the children, and Charles alone. When they were safely in the kitchen, Tom held his finger to his lips to silence any questions she may have. "It was all Mary and Sybbie's idea. Thomas came to the nursery and announced that you'd phoned and Mr. Carson wasn't coming tonight. I've never seen two more upset ladies. I don't know who was more bothered, Mary or Sybbie."

Elsie hugged Tom tightly. "I can assure you, the mood here at the cottage has been rather somber, too. It hit him rather hard this morning but once he told me why he was upset, we managed to keep him busy so he wouldn't think of Thomas taking over one more aspect of his life. Thank you for bringing them here, tonight. This is the best Christmas gift you could have given him … or me," she said before lightly kissing his cheek.

As Elsie and Tom worked together to get everything ready for their little impromptu dinner party, Charles settled down with Mary, George, and Sybbie, who helped him quickly tear off the wrapping paper from the book. "It's the same one from the nursery. You always read from this book so we just had to bring it along. Aunt Mary says it's the same one you read to them when they were little."

"It is, indeed. I bought the book for your Aunt Mary on her first Christmas and it's seen quite a few Christmas Eve's since then," he said, giving his favorite Crawley girl a smile and a subtle wink.

"Right, nevermind how many years this book has seen. I know two children who need to have the story read to them, dinner, then off to bed. Otherwise, Father Christmas might miss our house, and I will be terribly cross if I don't get my stocking filled this evening," Mary said, giving George a little tickle and Sybbie a wink.

Tom and Elsie returned with the light dinner while Charles poured four glasses of wine and two small glasses of milk. "I know it's not what you're used to eating, milady, but we are thankful you're here," Elsie said in earnest.

"Nonsense. We should be thanking you for sharing your dinner with us, and for allowing us to intrude on your evening. I'm afraid we should have called first."

"But then the surprise would have been spoiled," Sybbie announced as she tried to talk around a mouthful of bread.

"And we might not have been allowed to stay for soup," George added. "Mr. Barrow promised to bring me some chocolate later, but I still have room for this," he said, taking another spoonful.

The conversation around the dinner table was light and mostly filled with the children talking about what they hoped to get for Christmas or little stories about making the shortbread with Mrs. Patmore. Tom and Mary added little bits to the conversation here and there, but mostly remained quiet at Charles and Elsie enjoyed the company of the children.

"That was very good soup, Mrs. Hughes. I liked it so much better than Mrs. Patmore's" Sybbie announced. "Can you teach her how to make it like you do? I'm sure she wouldn't mind, and I wouldn't mind having soup for my dinner."

Charles and Elsie shared a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "I don't know if I should tell Mrs. Patmore how to do her job, lass. She's been cooking longer than I have, and I could learn a few tricks from her."

"Maybe you could share ideas, then. You could teach her how to make soup and she could teach you … something. I'm not sure what."

George tapped Charles on the arm until he had his full attention. "May we have biscuits and the story, now?"

"Brilliant idea, Master George. Why don't we leave everything here on the table and go into the sitting room where it's warmer and more comfortable?" He reached out to take George and Sybbie by the hands, leading them into the other room.

"Mummy, aren't you coming?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she answered, settling down in a chair and slipping George onto her lap and hugging him close.

"Mrs. Hughes? Papa? Hurry up. He's about to start!"

Elsie pretended to rush about through the room, looking for a spot to sit when Sybbie grabbed her hand and motioned for her to sit down beside Mr. Carson. "That way, I can sit on your lap and be close to both of you and see the pages."

"Right you are," Elsie said, taking the afghan from the back of the sofa and spreading it across their laps and handing one to Mary and George. Tom sat down in the floor by Katie and the fire, excited in his own way to hear the reading by Mr. Carson.

When everyone was properly settled, Charles began.

" _Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. …"_

By the time Charles had finished, two little children were nearly asleep. George was yawning and Sybbie was more than content being snuggled in Elsie's arms. "I think it's time for these two youngsters to get into bed. Father Christmas will be here soon, and we don't want them to miss anyone's stockings," he said, giving Lady Mary a knowing smile.

"No, we couldn't, Mr. Carson, and I'm sure you two will need to head to bed soon, too. Otherwise, your stockings won't be filled in the morning, either," Tom said, nodding his head towards the fireplace where the silver and gold stockings hung.

Sybbie stretched in Elsie's arms then reached over for Charles to take her. He hugged her as she kissed his cheek. "Will you come visit me tomorrow so I can show you what I got for Christmas? I'll even share my biscuits with you, and Mrs. Hughes, too." She reached out her hand to take Elsie's hand in her much smaller one.

"We will be there for the staff dinner tomorrow so I'm sure we can stop by the nursery to see what Father Christmas left. Now, you two run along and make sure to clean your teeth before bed. I promise, we'll see you tomorrow." He kissed her cheek then handed her back to Elsie as Tom carried George out to the car, Elsie and Sybbie tagging along behind him. Mary lingered for just a moment, hoping for a quiet word with Carson.

"Thank you, Carson. You've made the children very happy tonight. They were most unhappy when Barrow told us you'd not be coming tonight. I hope we haven't offended you in some way."

"Not at all, milady. I merely assumed Mr. Barrow would be reading to the children tonight. He is, after all, the new butler."

Mary's eyes widened in surprise. "He may be the butler, Carson, but he will never be _you_! It was never about the butler reading the story to us, or to our children. It was only special because it was you who was reading it to us … our Carson." She stretched up and kissed his cheek quickly. "Barrow may be the butler, but there's only one Carson in this world, and the Crawley's are lucky to have you be a part of our lives. I'm happy Sybbie and George will grow up under your watchful eye, and now, Mrs. Hughes's, too." She touched his hand lightly then straightened her back and left the cottage.

When the door shut firmly behind Mary, Elsie emerged from the kitchen with tears in her eyes. "She's right, you know."

"You heard? How much of it?"

"I heard enough, and she's right. There's only one Carson in this world, and I'm so glad you're mine," she said walking over to him and enveloping him in her arms. "Though, I suppose I shall have to learn to share you with your fans."

"My fans have all gone home, except for the one that matters most. I'm hoping I can convince her to leave everything until morning so we can retire upstairs before jolly Saint Nick comes bounding down that chimney and demands biscuits and mistletoe!"

"Hmm, it might not be a bad idea to take the treats and mistletoe up with us. You know, so they're both safe tonight." The sparkle in her eyes told him all he needed to hear.

"Mrs. Carson, we may not be asleep for quite some time. How would you feel about not having your stocking filled in the morning?"

She gave him a cheeky grin and unplugged the Christmas tree lights, plunging the room into near darkness. "I'm willing to risk it. I'm sure whatever keeps me awake will be better than anything in a stocking on the mantle."

"Merry Christmas, Elsie," he said as he caught her around the waist as she passed him on the way to the stairs.

"Merry Christmas, Charlie." She stood on her tiptoes and grabbed a piece of the mistletoe hanging over their doorway before dashing up the stairs. "Now, where to put you?"

As he stood at the bottom of the stairs, he could hear her talking to the mistletoe, and it made him grin. "Merry Christmas to me, old Charlie. Butler or no, you're one lucky man," he said before rushing up the stairs to unwrap and cherish the best gift life had ever given him. Her name was Elsie.

 **A/N:** Thank you so much for kindly reading and reviewing each and every one of these chapters! This concludes our adventures into the world of Downton Abbey Series 7. I hope you've enjoyed reading them as much as I've enjoyed writing them. Special shout out to my FANTASTIC friends who listened to me whinge and moan about certain things while always being supportive and encouraging. Without you ladies, I would have tossed in the writing towel ages ago! xoxoxox Until next time … Chelsie On! xoxo


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